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solar-pxwered · 4 years

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A List Of Norman Reedus Movies/Shows I Have Seen And My Opinions On Them

1. The Boondock Saints

The Best. A classic. Bloody and inappropriate and if I remember my count correctly, contains 194 “fucks” or variations of it (this movie certainly illustrates the diversity of the word). Terrible Irish accents. A KICKASS soundtrack. Willem DeFoe crossdressing. Dropping toilets on people’s heads. Over the top action sequences. Cheesy dialogue. Campy as fuck. I freakin’ love it.

2. The Boondock Saints 2: All Saints Day

Some people didn’t like this one as much as the first one, and I admit that I wasn’t as fond of the new detective in this one as I was of Smecker...but, overall, I really enjoyed it and I drove 2 hours to see it in theaters. I love Romeo more than Rocco. The humor was on point. It was nice to see the original actors for Doc, Dolly, Duffy and Greenley. There was more terrible Irish accents, another KICKASS soundtrack, cheesy dialogue, over the top action sequences, still campy as fuck. I freaking love it.

3. The Walking Dead

Cannot even describe how much I love this show. I have ALWAYS loved zombie related shows and movies so this show was right up my alley from the very beginning all the way back in 2010. I watched it religiously every Sunday. I adore this roller coaster ride of a show and I especially adore Daryl, Carol and Jerry. This show has it all: Comedy, drama (hella lots of that), tragedy and triumph...and it never fails to pulls me in and hold my interest.

4. Mimic

Honestly, I saw this a LONG time ago and I hated it because...well, because I have a cockroach phobia, ok?! Don’t judge. Norman’s part was pretty small, not one of his lasting impressions on me.

5. Six Ways To Sunday

This is a weird one. It’s about an overly innocent 18 year (played by Norman) who gets involved in the Mob and develops an alter ego that’s violent and his complete opposite. There’s murder, prostitutes and good ol’ fashioned mother-son incest and it wasn’t a movie I suggest for the lighthearted or anyone with those sort of triggers.

That being said, I watched the whole thing and didn’t hate it. It was just uncomfortable...as seems to be a theme with Norman Reedus movies.

6. Dark Harbor

This fucking movie...

Ok, so, I’ll be straight with you: I really enjoyed this dumbass movie. It had me guessing right up to the very end and it took me on a very strange ride along the way.

If watching someone sexually feed a woman a poisonous mushroom, lots of dark eyed staring scenes or Norman Reedus making out with Alan Rickman is your thing, then go for it.

7. Let the Devil Wear Black

It’s modern Hamlet. What else is there to say? If you like Hamlet, you’ll like this movie. If you like pre-car accident, baby face Reedus with the black hair, you’ll like this movie. I liked it.

8. 8MM

You know what the best thing about this movie is? Nicholas Cage. He steals the damn show no matter what movie he’s in and no one can even deny that fact. Norman’s part in this one is pretty small too but I liked this movie anyway because...well, Nick Cage. Enough said.

9. Bad Seed

I honestly can’t remember how this movie ends, all I remember was that it wasn’t at all how I expected it. I liked this movie because it’s a psychological thriller and that’s my most favorite genre of all time. The movie’s premise is a guy suspects his wife of having an affair and comes home one night and finds her murdered so he goes after her lover (Reedus) to try and kill him because he believes he was the one who killed her. It’s a cat and mouse chase sort of thing...now I need to rewatch it because I can’t, for the life of me, remember how it ends.

10. Gossip

Ok, no JOKE, this is the best movie I ever randomly discovered and I can’t believe how many people have never heard of it! It’s got some big names in it (Lena Headey, Norman Reedus, James Marsden and Kate Hudson to name a few).

It’s a psychological thriller/mystery drama in which three friends start a rumor at their school as a social experiment for their class. The rumor grows, however, and suddenly it’s out of their hands and spiraling out of control. People start getting hurt, reputations get dragged through the mud and then it escalates to the point of someone losing their life. The three main characters {Reedus, Headey and Marsden) try to figure out the truth behind the out of control rumors and discover more than they ever imagined, or ever wanted.

I HIGHLY recommend this movie. I really, REALLY do. The ending is one of the best twists I’ve seen in a LONG time.

11. The Beatnicks

This movie is so weird. It’s like...it’s just really weird. It revolves around two beat poets who find a magic box that somehow magically helps them get good at being poets but it’s like...an evil box and so they decide to only use it once and then get rid of it. Yeah, it’s a weird movie. Not my highest suggestion.

12. Blade II

Ok, if you’ve never seen the Blade Trilogy then I just don’t even know what to tell you.

My favorite of the three movies, Blade 2 gives us the glorious Reedus character of Scud, the pot smoking, horrible-shirt-wearing, mechanical genius and Blade’s sidekick. Not only is he precious and adorable, the movie in all is enjoyable and has a fun rave-esque soundtrack.

The one thing I hate? *SPOILER ALERT* Scud’s scummy betrayal.

13. Tough Luck

This is another one of those movies that I liked but it’s just so freaking weird.

It’s a psychological drama where a down on his luck con artist, Archie (Reedus), tries to rip off a carnival worker and gets caught. As punishment, he’s hired to work at the carnival to pay off the debt. He gets involved in a scheme to murder the owner’s wife, but falls in love with her in the process.

Things go to shit. He gets the short end of the stick. More plots and lies develop. It’s all twisted until the end and the answers fall into place.

I really like this movie, it’s one that I kept and still have my copy of.

A word of warning though, never leave this movie on your movie shelf for your father to find and watch while you’re away at college, resulting in your mother calling you and asking you why you have such a nasty movie. Because the sex scene at the end is OUTRAGEOUS. I mean, it is the FUNNIEST fucking sex scene I have ever seen in my life and I can’t ever watch it without cringing and laughing. My mother, however, didn’t think it was funny at all and my father was too shocked to even form a sentence.

I highly suggest this trippy as hell movie.

14. Octane

Ok, to be fair, this movie is actually alright, although Norman’s character gets the shittiest death possible. I mean, imagine dying because some psycho vampire kisses you and bites your tongue out. That’s one shitty death.

But, overall, this is a good thriller. Johnathan Rhys Meyers plays the villain and he’s always pretty quality. The story is basically a teenager has a disagreement with her mom and gets picked up by this drugged up, blood sucking, vampire wannabe cult and indoctrinated joining them. Her mother joins up with a tow truck driver (Reedus) whose daughter was also kidnapped years ago and who has been hunting the cult down ever since.

It was a cringe filled, yet interesting, movie and I didn’t hate it.

15. John Carpenter’s Cigarette Burns

This is John Carpenter....OF COURSE I liked this one.

I won’t say what it’s about because that would ruin the story, but it’s part of an anthology and John Carpenter loved Norman’s role so much he STILL talks about it today and suggests Norman to people in the industry.

It’s a good one if you’re into horror shorts or anthologies or the genius of the legend that is John Carpenter.

16. A Crime

I had completely forgotten about this movie until I started making this post, but now that I remember...I REALLY liked this one!!

This is a pretty sad one, but it was very good and Norman’s acting in it is absolutely wonderful. His character’s wife was murdered and the suspect was never found so his neighbor, who really likes him, creates a fake culprit so that he can finally get some closure.

This is a good one. I suggest this one if you’re in the mood for a strange sort of romance movie that has underlying thriller tones.

17. Moscow Chill

I remember watching this one, and I remember enjoying it, but I honestly can’t remember anything about it except that it’s a Russian film in which Norman plays a computer hacker who gets hired to hack into a Russian bank and gets caught and put in prison. But I honestly can’t remember what happens in detail.

If you like foreign movies with hacking and subterfuge plots, then give it a try because I do remember enjoying it while I watched.

18. Red Canyon

This one is kinda fucked up. Imagine Daryl Dixon mixed with Breaking Bad mixed with Deliverance and you’ve pretty much got the story...

A brother and sister return to their mother’s hometown to settle things and put their horrible past behind them...but upon returning they end up reliving the nightmare all over again.

It’s a good thriller/horror watch, but there are scenes of sexual violence so if that’s not something you can handle, then don’t watch this one.

19. Hero Wanted

This. Is. A. GOOD. Movie.

Cuba Gooding Jr. is the lead and he does an AMAZING job. Gooding’s character is a garbage man who falls in love with a girl who never takes any notice of him. To get her attention, he stages a heist in which he is supposed to jump in, save the day, and win the girl...only the heist turns out to be real and he is shot and the girl is also shot in the process. He sets out for revenge and gets in way over his head.

Norman’s part in this isn’t very big...but HOLY SHIT, was it impactful. His character didn’t have a lot of screen time, in comparison to a lot of other people, but he had a solid backstory and reason for being involved and MY GOD did I cry about it. This was actually the first movie of his I watched AFTER discovering Boondock Saints and it solidified my love for his acting abilities.

A very good watch. Highly suggest.

20. Messengers 2: The Scarecrow

This one is pretty ok, actually, as far as lame horror movies go.

The plot is simple: Blonde, beardy, corn farmer Norman gets slowly driven insane by the haunted scarecrow in his field that he thinks putting up is a good idea for some damn reason. He starts to get more and more violent and rapey as time goes on until his family is forced to take up arms against him.

It’s not bad. Second part in what I THINK is a trilogy? I’ve only ever seen the first two. If you like horror movies then this one is a good watch. As I mentioned though, there is an attempted rape scene in this one so just be aware.

21: Pandorum

It’s an alien movie. Astronauts run into a species that is stronger and hungry for tasty humans. Shepard (Norman’s character) doesn’t make it out alive. If you’re not in the mood to see Norman get LITERALLY gutted or other characters get nommed by aliens, then don’t watch.

If you ARE, then go ahead and watch, because it was pretty alright.

#norman reedus #panja speaks #I just thought anyone wanting to check out more of his stuff should have a starting point

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robiness · 4 years

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Qrow was meant to be a punching bag (theory, V7CH12 spoilers)

tw: depression, one brief mention of suicide at the very end

Many are upset about the literal and narrative butchering of two beloved characters in RWBY V7E12. The initial and probably most popular argument against what happened is that it doesn’t make sense, why would these characters do what they did. And honestly, that reasonable reaction to the injustice was mine, too.

But now that I’ve “calmed down”, meaning I’m finally not in a whirlwind of blind rage, indignation, and devastation, I started thinking about “Why did they do that?” with some level of depth.

The answer I found is still unjust and disgusting, but at least it fell in line with something resembling logic.

Qrow enthusiasts have been complaining about his endless heartbreak. Why can’t be be happy for once? What’s the whole point in his recovery arc this volume if they’ll just scrap it? It’s like they put random tragedies on a dart board and the writers just started throwing.

Hear me out - they meant all of this. Every instance Qrow suffered is intended. They didn’t throw away his recovery arc because he was never meant to recover.

I think that they’re going to make him an antagonist at worst, or a man driven to the ultimate tragedy at best.

At this point, you’re probably like. What. Lol no. You’re as silly as the writers are.

But again, let me explain. I used to have that mindset of Qrow always being best but sad boy. A hero who just needs a chance.

There was NO way this man will ever go dark:

he probably thinks he lost summer to salem

his nieces are actively hunted by salem and her forces, and RWBY for sure ain’t changing sides

he’s always believed in the principles he has, and he’s always applied them. he’s a good Huntsman who cares, and knows his path

he believes in ruby’s determination and ability to probs save the world

But that’s the thing.

He’s ALWAYS stuck by the principles he learned from Ozpin. Betrayal after betrayal, he was crushed but managed to somehow bounce back.

This volume, he was on a good track. A good mind space. His kids are great, but then he met an equal - someone with literal plot armor against his Semblance. Misfortune is the reason why he stays away from the people he loves, why he blames himself for a lot of things, why he feels like baggage.

A person his age who could be a friend, or more. Huntsman of equal ability and maturity.

Queerbaiting aside (I’m sorry I ever used that phrase, I hate them too), Clover was a possibility. Here was a potential team partner, friend, lover, whatever, but the point is he was finally free to explore what a developing relationship is like because here’s a guy who kinda got him, and probably won’t be harmed by staying close for an extended period of time.

I think the chemistry in their fights solidified this too. Clover was someone who didn’t get in trouble by being at his side (except the first time in the mines, and Clover took it in stride and still succeeded).

Even better, Clover actually vocalizes that hey, it’s okay.

He doesn’t dismiss Qrow’s semblance, but he encourages Qrow to let go of the guilt a bit, that he’s worth more than his bad luck, and can continue to work around it.

Qrow was nowhere near full recovery, but he was definitely on the way with a bit of Clover’s help. Later, my precious man finally smiles for real... not his smirk or sad smiles to Ruby. He’s smiling for the enjoyment of the moment and things are looking up!

(slightly sorry for the gif below)

(V7CH12 gifs would be appropriate from here on, but I am NOT doing that to myself)

So what’s the point, Robiness? We all know how THAT story goes. Qrow gets trauma because it’s shown to him, yet again, that his Semblance fucks up the good things, that even someone with the most potential to be safe ISN’T. Not around him.

The whole crash was OOC, rushed and bad writing, whatever. But why did it happen?

Qrow is basically the poster boy for mental health in this show. He’s depressed, and to him AND to the outside world, he’s right in thinking he’s only going to hurt people. He’s been proven right, many times, that he is bad luck.

What’s different this time?

He didn’t have hope, the other times he was let down. He had hope for humanity, yes, and that he can somehow contribute to saving it.

But he’s never had hope for himself, that he could be more than his Semblance. Clover’s character gave that to him. He was already trying to quit drinking, but that was for Ruby and the other kids, and by extension their mission, but not for himself.

When CRWBY killed that hope, it killed anything inside of Qrow that could’ve thought that he could be a hero. Or even simply better than he was before.

He’s crushed, his mind is clouded. As Clover died, he wanted to kill Tyrian, then he wanted James to fall. The legal type of justice wouldn’t be enough to assuage his need for vengeance.

And he’s alone. Perhaps about to be arrested, I don’t know. But every other time he’s been crushed, he had the kids around to divert the attention even a little bit. But this time, there’s no one to help him process and move past this. No positivity from Ruby, no scolding from Yang to keep it together. No one.

If you’ve ever had mental illnesses, you could probably imagine being alone in that fragile state of mind.

And you know who’s the most likely to know where the heck he is and that he’s going through something? His sister, Raven, because of her Semblance.

Details have been important in how RWBY is told to the audience (though they retract when convenient lol). Sometimes, this includes release dates. February is the last month of winter, slowly turning into spring. Yes, I mean the Spring maiden.

Let’s talk about Raven.

She’s angry at her brother, also for feelings of betrayal. He betrayed their tribe, their values, everything they stood for. He left her, his sister. He chose Ozpin’s mission over her, even though their original plan was to just infiltrate Beacon to learn how to kill Huntsmen better.

This means she remembers a boy that had the same ideas and supported her and their family. I don’t think she can accept that this Qrow, the one we know, is her actual brother, how he should be. When it comes to Qrow, I think what matters to her the most is proving that she was right all along, that they should’ve just stuck together and kept to their practices.

And Qrow, regardless of the spring bit, if he encounters her as he is now... could easily believe that she was right. After all, the facts to him are:

He can’t escape his Semblance, ever.

He needs vengeance for Clover, because his death was his fucking fault. His attempt to deescalate the fight (leaving Harbinger in the snow) didn’t matter, because his bad luck won in the end.

A plausible 3. Doing things “the good way” “the right way” is never going to cut it for him because he is walking misfortune. Something will always go wrong.

So why not drop all fucks and go ahead full-force?

His mind isn’t in its best state right now, and all his decisions will of course be emotional.

We’ve known Qrow from point A depression to point B somewhat recovery to point C the last fucking straw. I think it’s something to consider that we’ve never heard anything about his youth, except that he used to believe in the brutality of their tribe. He never mentions it, and we don’t know anything about the circumstances that made him change, beyond “Ozpin gave him a place”.

He gave up his heritage just to be proven that brutality would have protected his loved ones better.

So yes, the punching bag theme, the endless misery, Clover’s death - all these are most likely building up to that shift in his character. We thought the eventual character shift would just be his recovery, but since that was scrapped, the only other way that makes sense is that he’s going to regress into someone that cannot be saved.

He’s not going to switch sides. He’s not going to stop loving his kids. He’s probably never going to join Salem.

But his methods will be more ruthless now, driven by heartbreak and rage and self-hatred. God knows how he’ll deal with anyone in his way. He’s not going to fucking listen. He listened to Clover, and where did that get him?

This way, the violent, straightforward way he used to know, this would protect his kids more efficiently, even if they don’t want him to go down that path. He’d probably leave them to protect them, and to be unhindered in his corner of the war.

He’ll think that this - to be a rage-filled killing machine - would be the best case scenario for him and the rest of the world. Kind of like how he followed RNJR from a distance, killing all the Grimm that could get in their way.

We thought he was a broken man before, but this has been escalating. It’s been probably planned out since before.

If you’re not convinced yet, remember:

RWBY loves literature parallels.

Leo Lionheart changed, and gave in to fear. The Cowardly Lion.

James Ironwood, the Tin Man, has proven that he’s thrown away his heart.

Qrow Branwen, the Scarecrow, was always fucking destined to lose his mind.

I don’t know what will happen after, what kind of sick tragic death he’ll end up with. Since they’re romanticizing his suffering so much, he’ll probably end up killing himself after his work’s done.

I have no idea how the details will go, but I’m pretty sure this is the path the writers will take. There is just no other reason I can fathom as to why they keep hurting my man. I want to be wrong, but I can’t think of anything else, unless some deus ex machina shit happens in the finale, but hell if I’m ever trusting CRWBY again.

And yeah, as a depressed person who relates to and loves Qrow, the idea of the message of “it’s never going to get better” fucking sucks.

#rwby #rwby theory #qrow branwen #clover ebi #i havent stopped being angry its just that im less incapacitated and more directed in my rage now #fair game #meta

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acsversace-news · 6 years

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For The Assassination of Gianni Versace, the starry second season of FX anthology series American Crime Story, Finn Wittrock was asked to sit with the anguish of the ostracized, in his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan murder victim Jeffrey Trail.

A closeted gay man serving as an officer in the US Navy at the height of “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” who struggled to reconcile his patriotism, his sexuality, and the brutal treatment of gays in the armed forces, Trail contemplated suicide before meeting his maker at the hands of the spree killer, in a tragic twist of fate.

After Versace and three seasons of American Horror Story, Wittrock now has each of Ryan Murphy’s American anthologies under his belt—and an Emmy nomination for each. A favorite in the mega-producer’s rotating stable of actors, Wittrock has demonstrated the ability to match Murphy’s wide range—gravitating between camp and real-world stories of significant social importance—executing every time.

In the case of Murphy’s latest hit, this meant seeking the truth of a real-life fallen person—a man who existed, out of necessity, in the shadows—bringing his humanity to light.

There’s a great unease to Versace in its final form. Reading scripts for the project, did that leap off the page?

Yes, definitely. I think the first time I read it, I found it very unexpected, the kind of turns that it took, to take as much time as it did with my character and really go into such depth in a storyline that’s kind of peripheral to the main narrative, but then brilliantly weaves its way into the Versace story.

I thought the way that Tom Rob Smith and Ryan juxtaposed these parallel storylines—for instance, when I’m coming out in that “Don’t ask, don’t tell” sequence, going with the parallel line of seeing Versace make the first public announcement that he was gay—the way that they were able to do that throughout was really fascinating.

There was definitely a sense of unease; a sense of dread I think, also. The structure, working it backwards like they did, it’s really the definition of tragedy. You know that this is not going to end well and yet you keep secretly hoping that it will, illogically.

Did Murphy approach you to offer up the role of Jeffrey Trail?

Yes, I believe he did. I don’t think it was necessarily written with me in mind, but I think I reached out to him at one point and was like, “Got anything cooking?” [laughs] And he was like, “Actually, I have something up my sleeve.” It kind of works like that with him. He will just approach you out of the blue with some very new and thorough idea that he’s already worked out, and then it magically just sort of happens.

What resources did you turn to, in order to figure out who Trail really was?

There’s this great book that I grabbed right away called Vulgar Favors by Maureen Orth, the journalist for Vanity Fair. She wrote a very detailed book, mostly about [Andrew] Cunanan and the manhunt and Versace, but it then goes into my character and David [Madson] and everyone. Everything the show covers, it covers in even more depth, so that was a great continual resource, kind of the go-to bible whenever we had a question.

I also got a hold of the actual tape of that 48 Hours interview that Jeff Trail did with his face covered, talking about “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” So between those two things, it was like the book gave me the exterior details and then that interview really gave me the soul of it. Even though you can’t see him, there’s so much repressed pain and frustration—and also nobility, in some way—in his voice. So, that was really my way in. You’re always finding one trigger that inexplicably works for you as an actor, and hearing his voice, eventually I just recorded it, listening to his voice before every scene.

Watching the series, it felt like Trail had a kind of PTSD—not from Navy service itself, but from the treatment of gay men in the military.

Definitely, and a sense of injustice. He didn’t think of himself as a rebel outside the system; he believed in the system. He believed in his country—he was more of a patriot than I am—so I think that made the injustice all the more clear. It wasn’t like, “I’m going to take down the man”; it was like, “We need to fix this because I want to fight for my country.”

You noted the way in which telling this story out of order functioned in dramatic terms. Did it have a specific effect in the filming of the series?

It did. You already shoot out of sequence [in television], but then it’s written out of sequence, so to keep the storyline in your head was an added challenge. But it was also interesting because from the very beginning, I knew where it was going. When the first thing you shoot is your gruesome death, everything you do after that is working up to that point. It added a sense of doom, but because of that I think I tried to throw as many other colors besides doom in before that, if that makes sense.

Could you describe the experience of shooting those scenes documenting Trail’s painful history in the Navy? It must have been physically and emotionally intense.

Yeah, it was. I realized how easily you could hang yourself. I put myself up with that belt and let my weight go on it—not 100%, but a little more than maybe the stunt guy wanted me to—and it’s amazing how quickly my vision became spotty. I was like, “Wow, if I did this with just a little more pressure I would definitely be out.” So it was a big awakening in that way. Also, the idea of Jeff putting on his uniform, saluting himself in the mirror and then going to kill himself, it leads you down some dark territory.

Because again, it’s not like he was saying, “Screw you, American military.” He gets dressed up because in some complicated way, he believes in what that uniform represents until the very end. I thought that was very revealing. But then also, he can’t [kill himself]. I think he realizes in that moment that there’s still a lot more that he has to do in his life. So, yeah. It’s definitely never easy to face your own mortality for a few seconds, but it was what was required.

What was it like working with Darren Criss and Cody Fern on this material?

It was great. They’re both such talents, and they really went above and beyond for their roles. Between the three of us there was a lot of actorly discussion about blanks to fill in, in terms of what our relationship really was, because a lot of it happened off-screen. A lot is sort of left to the imagination, so we had to make a lot of that between us, and it was good because those guys both have so much imagination and are so easy to work with. Darren’s a self-described theater nerd, as am I, so we spoke the same language.

How does Murphy tend to work, in your experience? Have you typically gone through an extensive rehearsal process on his series?

Not really. There’s so much to shoot in so little time, so we kind of just jump right in there. The director in most of my episodes was Daniel Minahan, who’s just excellent. You prepare as much as possible beforehand and then once you’re on set, you just have to run and gun. But we had enough time between the actors to solidify what was going on between us; then, you just had to play and go for it. Darren was in every second of every frame of this thing, and it was not an easy shoot. So I was generally in awe of his sheer tenacity, just getting through the whole thing.

What do you enjoy most about working with Murphy?

First of all, you always know that you’re going to have the best team around you. The crew of his shows are the hardest working, most positive-thinking-despite-all-odds group of people, so you feel like you’re in good hands always. I feel like everything that I’ve done with him, there’s always some second layer of meaning that you might not see at first. Even shooting Freak Show—American Horror Story—there were these storylines that you think you’d got figured out that wind up surprising you, taking you to a whole new level of depth. I think that’s why the stuff that he produces is so successful. There’s this sort of subversive layer of empathy no matter who the subject is, even someone as crazy as Andrew Cunanan.

Why do you think Versace specifically has resonated so strongly, with its 18 Emmy nominations?

In some ways I do feel like sometimes looking backward [best spotlights] the most topical issues—like, looking back on “Don’t ask, don’t tell” and the gay scene in the ‘90s, and the repression that’s so recent but so seemingly far away. Also, there’s this theme I think [Murphy] keeps coming back to—“Monsters aren’t born; they’re made.” I think for some reason something that’s going on in our modern zeitgeist is really responsive to that idea. [laughs] Fill in the blanks if you will. To really get to the root of what makes a monster for some reason just seems to hit us.

Is there a particular moment from the set of this series that will stick with you?

The thing that I keep remembering is that interview—the first time I walked into the set within the set. I hadn’t rehearsed that scene at all before we shot it the first time, walking in and seeing this camera in my face and realizing that this was the moment I was going to tell my truth. I think you’re always looking for a moment when the line between acting and reality becomes a little blurry, and that for some reason was one of them.

You’ll be seen this fall in Barry Jenkins’ If Beale Street Could Talk. How was your experience with the Oscar winner?

Barry is just an amazing mind. I actually only shot one day on it, but packed in a lot of stuff in that day. He’s like a poet to me, just like James Baldwin. His movies are like beautiful poems, so I think that’s what this is going to be. I haven’t seen it yet but the script was incredibly, tearjerkingly beautiful, and it’s really close to the novel. I think even in the trailer you can feel that same passion for making something beautiful.

It’s remarkable that you ended up on this film shortly after working with Damien Chazelle on La La Land. The two biggest directors of 2016, both in the awards race again this season.

[Laughs] I know. That’s funny, right? That [Best Picture snafu] was quite an event. But that’s why you have live TV, you know? It’s unpredictable.

Do you have any specific career ambitions as you move forward?

I’m definitely looking to have something on my own shoulders that I’m the lead of, and try carrying a film or a show on my own. But in general I just want to keep working with the best people possible, telling stories that I think are somewhat important. I also have my own writing and directing ambitions, so that’s something I’ve got cooking.

#acs versace #finn wittrock #deadline #interview #article #august 2018

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pixiedane · 7 years

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Sirius and James? :D

Year OneThe Marauders meet. James and Sirius are fast friends. They are a lot alike — wealthy, spoiled, entitled, arrogant, rebellious, and determined to make their mark. Remus and Peter are quieter and far less flashy.

Year TwoJames, Sirius, and Peter discover Remus’s secret, and it only brings them closer. It’s James’s plan to become animagi and it solidifies him as the leader of the four. While Remus is most grateful and Peter is most impressed, Sirius realizes the lengths James is willing to go for his friends, realizes that James is more his family than his close knit, elitist, racist, abusive family ever could be.

Years Three to FiveIt takes three years to perfect the animagus spell. In this time the four become wildly popular and make a lot of mischief. James becomes fixated on Snape, whom he has no respect for and enjoys bullying, and Lily, the only girl who doesn’t swoon when he enters the room. I imagine both James and Sirius as serial casual daters. I imagine all four Marauders playing kissing games with each other, and whoever else is around. Peter, Remus, and Sirius are all wistful about it in their own ways; James is oblivious to it.

Once they are all animagi their bond steps up even more — they are breaking some serious rules and risking their lives for their friendship. This is also when Sirius’s situation at home becomes truly untenable. There are many late night discussions, just James and Sirius, mostly Sirius talking and James listening, but sometimes the other way around. Sirius is desperate to get away from his family and torn up about it at the same time. It’s not safe there, so how can he leave his kid brother, no matter how much they argue. I’m certain he’s depressed, possibly on drugs (wizard drugs?), definitely heavy into the punk scene. James and Sirius partying in London circa 1976 is like, my favorite thing. As for James, he wants more than this little life. He’s bored being the big man, bully on campus, the Quidditch star who can get any girl except the one he wants. He feels like no one knows the REAL James. Siruis tells him, I do. James doesn’t answer.

They have an emotional and physical relationship. Sirius calls it love, but not out loud.

Year SixSirius moves in with the Potters. He’s in a safe, loving home for the first time in ever. James’s parents are old and boring but they are kind. And trusting — there aren’t many house rules so now the London clubbing really takes off. Sirius is happy, really happy. And absolutely devoted to James. His best friend, his brother, his schoolboy lover.

Year SevenJames spent Year Six growing up. In Year Seven he’s Head Boy, a model student and a mentor. His caring and compassionate nature — which has been there all along for Peter, Remus, and Sirius — starts to come out in other interactions. He even wins over Lily, and unlike every other girl he’s dated, she matters. And everyone knows it.

Sirius hardcore resents Lily. She spent SIX years turning James down, playing with his affections, and Sirius is the one who had to hear about it, pick up the pieces of James heart, and pretend like he didn’t care when James was back to chasing Lily the next day. And now she decides he’s good enough for her? Now that he’s literally living in James’s home and they are inseparable and can live happily ever after, NOW?

At this point there are a lot of late night discussions/hook ups with Remus, while James and Lily are out together, and Peter wants in, too, but Sirius barely wants Remus and it is all an unhealthy mess (that eventually ends in tragedy).

Order of the PhoenixThey graduate and are fighting a war. James’s parents die and he inherits a fortune, enough to support them all and help their cause. James and Lily are married at 18, Sirius is the Best Man. He is incredibly proud, he is happy that his best friend, brother, schoolboy lover is happy. He likes Lily for Lily though he still resents her, still misses what might have been. But he loves James so he throws himself into making certain he’s happy. He gets super drunk at the reception, once his Best Man duties are done. Remus takes him home.

Lily gets pregnant and the Potters become a target. Sirius convinces James to change the plan and the result is terrible.

PrisonJames is dead and Sirius is in prison for life. Two things keep him alive — revenge and James’s memory.

HarryHarry is so many things to Sirius. He’s part James, the love of his life. He’s part Lily, the love of James’s life. He’s a child trapped in a home and family that abuse him, just like Sirius was. He’s the baby in need of protection from the Dark Lord, the one he failed to protect, but now has another chance. He’s the boy he was, and the boy James was, when they were young and alive and in love.

I think Sirius loves Remus, and can certainly find comfort with him. But his (very damaged) heart belongs to James and has from the beginning.

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it and/or write a scenario /give you a series rundown of my headcanons

#response #pixie ships #james potter #sirius black #james x sirius

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sunshinemiranda · 7 years

Text

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 5)

Summary: The Pirates want a fight, but the Lost Boys have self-destruct. Tink and a newfound Tiger Lily implore you to bring him back, leading you into Mermaid territory.

Warnings: Swear words, drinking and smoking.

Words: 7,644 (kill! me! please!)

A/N: i have no idea where this came from. i’m not joking when i say this but there’s a reason why it’s so disembodied. this might be either the worst or best chapter i’ve written for this series yet. oh god. anyway, enjoy.

askbox | masterlist

You didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore. It hurt too much. The fabric was the same one that graced Anthony’s slim, proud shoulders; the texture was too familiar after reverently brushing your hands over it the night Oak had given it to you. The warmth and pride it imbued in your skin was seemingly gone. The people around you saw it as an article of clothing tossed to the side but it was much, much more than that. Saying you didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore was meant to express that you were not a Lost Boy anymore.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagine to pull the jacket off and throw it at Anthony’s feet. He hadn’t let his cold expression fall for one second and it simultaneously made it easier and broke your heart. He was so perfectly good at what he did. It was a tragedy that you, despite all the pain, loved more than words could express.

So here you were, back in the school cafeteria, eating food that had lost all taste and thinking about the last few moments you had spent as a Lost Boy. In those dissipating minutes, so much that happened that you could only contemplate the instance in a sort of slow motion train of thought, not unlike molasses cloaking your brain so as to take in information more deeply.

It didn’t work, which didn’t surprise you. It hadn’t worked the night after the confrontation with the Pirates. It hadn’t worked once in the two days after you had left the Lost Boys. It hadn’t worked last night when all you could do to sleep was summon the feeling of flying. Even that had been tainted when Anthony’s smile flashed against your closed eyelids.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagined to rip yourself away from that perfectly imperfect group. It really did.

“(Y/N)?”

Nat’s soft smile and bright eyes tugged you above the surface of your thoughts and you startled, sitting up straight on the uncomfortable blue plastic bench.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.” The words, even as they escaped your mouth, sounded so insincere that you physically cringed.

Nat let a breath out, treading lightly. She was the only other person who knew just how unstable this upheaval had left you.

“About them?”

Your hands tightened into fists. “As always.”

She pauses, lips pressed together as her thoughts solidify slowly. “You really loved that group, huh.”

“Yes.” The affirmation falls from your lips too quickly and before you know it, humiliation slaps a blush onto your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Nat whispers, reaching across the table to press her hand over yours. “Can I…can I ask why this-“

“Please don’t.”

And she doesn’t because she can tell that your voice is distorted by the sort of emotion that comes when you’re holding back tears. And she doesn’t because she knows that hurt takes time but it scars with a sort of immortality too. And she doesn’t because she is your friend. That, all in itself, is enough for you to escape out the back door of the school before lunch period ends, wanting desperately but infinitely unable, to return to Neverland.

When you get home, the house is dark and you don’t bother to turn on the lights. Your bed has become the only refuge possible and even that is starting to be invaded by memories. As sleep takes hold of you with fragile fingers, there is a sinking feeling in your stomach that tells you your rest will be filled with restless dreams.

“I think they want Neverland.”

Slightly had been correct. The purr of motorcycle engines cut through the comfortable silence that enveloped the forest and by the time the words fell from Lin’s lips, Anthony had moved forward and there you were, as always, right behind him.

There was no possibility of forgetting the deep ache in your heart, however, and as you stepped forward, you gathered what little dignity you had left to stare at his leather-clad back in front of you. It was almost too much.

The Lost Boys were already grouped up at the mouth of the path and they turned to their leader with a rare vulnerability, an unsettling fear starting to rear its ugly head. It was the way they looked at Anthony that made your stomach twist with a bittersweet feeling. They were so devoted and until moments ago, you had been just as unwaveringly loyal.

“Tootles, is this the first you hear of this?” Anthony had already reverted to a granite exterior. Pan made his entrance.

“Yes,” Oak replied immediately. “I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground and neither the Mermaids or Tiger Lily knew about this.”

“I think it’s an ambush,” Nibs spoke up, an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. “I scouted from the highest point possible and they’ve come in numbers.”

“I swear to God, if that asshole tries to wreck anything here, I’m keeping his teeth as a prize.” Tink had her jaw clenched, hands balled into tight fists.

“You know procedure. We start with diplomacy first, but be on your guard. Jordan, can you take (Y/N) to the projection room? Come back when she’s safe.” Pan threw a hand in the general direction of the shack.

Your blood boiled. “Are you fucking kidding me? No way. I’m staying with you guys.”

“It’s too dangerous, (Y/N). Absolutely not.” Pan’s gaze was cold but the underlying care in his message did not escape you.

“Listen to me, Anthony, or Pan, or whoever you’re choosing to be in this moment,” your voice had an edge, a symptom of leftover hurt. “I may not be a part of this immediate group anymore but that does not mean I want to watch a group of my friends dive headfirst into what’s, most likely, a trap. Now you can switch personalities all you want, you can pretend that you’re not afraid of loving and being loved, but what you cannot do is make me cower in fear while this group goes to fight for you, Pan. They’re fighting for you. So when I say I’m coming with you guys, it is not a suggestion. It’s just fact.”

Silence fell over everyone in the vicinity. You caught more than one slack-jawed expression out of the corner of your eye. Anthony was staring back, surprised for once and speechless. Pippa took the chance.

“Well I guess (Y/N)’s coming with us, then. Come on. We should get going.” She reached out and placed a cautious hand on your arm. It was meant to be a gauge; she was checking to see if you were okay.

The group moved without Anthony’s final say, which seemed to send a rebellious thrill down everyone’s spine. Finally, Pan nodded slightly, just a slight movement before stepping forward and taking his position at the head of the group.

You could see the gleam of Hook’s silver necklace in the moonlight from meters away and as the distance closed, you were reminded again of the eeriness of Smee’s cold gaze. She was not an exceptionally tall woman, quite the opposite, in fact, but she had a look in her eye that prompted your heart to find its way into your stomach. Hook himself practically made your skin crawl.

“My friends!” James Oleander, his blonde hair reflecting light, opened his arms as the Lost Boys approached. “It’s good to see you, you know, a guy gets to missing a ragtag bunch of quirks like you.”

“Hook,” Pan barely nodded his head in recognition. “What is this?”

“Whoa, you sure went defensive fast.” Hook tsk-ed, stepping forward as he lazily paced in front of the tense group. “Is it not okay for me to visit?”

“I think we made it quite clear that you aren’t welcome,” you snapped, unable to stop yourself. Pan sent you a glare, his expression telling you to back down immediately.

“Ah, yes! I do remember that, how could I forget. In fact, you were the lovely lady who knew exactly what to do with her hands.” He stepped towards you, a predatory grin on his face. Just as he reached you, Pan angled his body just so and blocked Hook’s approach with ease.

“Why don’t we stop with the banter and get to more important issues?” Anthony’s voice was the coldest it had ever been in all your experiences with him. The words themselves were polite but the chilling way he stated them set a new tone in the air.

James pulled back, eyes narrowing. “Hm. Alright, then. Let me present my desire.” He pulled away from the group and spread his arms wide, turning in a slow circle as he took in Neverland. “I want to expand Pirate territory. Now I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. It comes to my attention that your broke friend here, needs money for college.”

Oak let out a slow breath at that, trying his best to lose tension. The group tensed, ready to pounce and retaliate but he spoke before it could happen. “That’s correct.”

“Mhm, I thought so.” Hook nodded, a synthetic empathy honeying his words. “It must be so hard to be poor. I can’t even imagine. In any case, I am offering you money. Lots of it. So much money, indeed, that it would be enough to pay for this one’s tuition for years, enough to buy you all cars, enough to…” He paused, letting his eyes settle on you. “To buy anything your little hearts desire.”

Pan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Right. What’s the catch?”

Hook gasped, pulling a hand to his chest. “Is that what you think of me? Just a business man?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Slightly rolled his eyes.

“What’s the catch, Hook?” Pan repeated, voice stern and level.

James turned to face the Lost Boys, his grin only growing in size. “In exchange for all that, you give me Neverland.”

Any tension that had been rising promptly exploded. Curly lunged, his fist narrowly missing a Pirate’s face as Oak struggled to pull him back. Tink’s voice rose above the crowd, the Twins spread out and Nibs had already started to move forward, fists raised. Everyone was ready for a fight, until Pan held up one calm hand. All noise or conflict ceased.

“And if we turn down the offer?”

Hook looked up from where he was focusing on his nails, his expression of disinterest turning to a sadistic sort of glee. “Then we take it by other means.”

You immediately cut your eyes to Pan as he paused, the air filled with anticipation. He was stuck. You could see it in his posture, the way he was trying so desperately to fix what he could. It broke your heart and, with a newfound bravery, you stepped forward.

“That’s not quite fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetie.” Hook sighed.

“At least let us fight for it.” Your plan, still forming, became solid as you spoke the words.

James paused, eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “I’m listening.”

“There’ll be a rumble. Give us a week to regroup; we’ll meet you in the clearing just off the highway. If we win, you pay for Oak’s education, fully and without complaint, we keep Neverland and you never return. If you win, we let you have this place and never bother you again.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Tink’s voice took your attention momentarily and you turned to her, attempting a smile.

“It’s okay, Pip. I’ve got it.” You returned your gaze to Hook, raising an eyebrow. “So? What do you think?”

He turned to Smee at his side and a silent conversation passed between the two before he focused on you again. “You’ve got a deal.”

The tension in the air seemed to snap and everyone in the vicinity deflated as the prospect of peace, though likely short-lived, became present. The Lost Boys watched in perfect silence as the Pirates took off on their motorcycles, leaving behind an acrid smell of exhaust and fear.

You turned to face the group, hoping against hope that you could bring these people together for just one second more of the golden light that past experiences exuded. It seemed possible until Pan spoke.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was shaking with rage.

You could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’ve just stepped forward and made a deal, not even thinking about the consequences, you didn’t even flinch. Maybe you should learn that you can’t go ahead with whatever plan takes your fancy at the goddamn moment.”

“But Pan, what if-“ Nibs attempted.

“Daveed, don’t.” Pan sent him a look that silenced the statement within seconds.

You threw your hands up, laughing coldly. “Right. Of course. Maybe you should learn to be grateful for once in your life. We have a week to get ourselves together and prepare for something we might have the chance to win, all thanks to me. I’ve given us-“

“Us?” He questioned. There was no light left in his eyes and as he stepped toward you, it was clear that not a trace of Anthony was present. “I think you’re mistaken, (Y/N). You’re not a part of the Lost Boys anymore, are you?”

“Anthony,” Oak called out, voice angered for once. “That is completely uncalled for.”

“No, this one was her choice. Isn’t that true, (Y/N)? Explain to these people why you’ve decided to so graciously drag us into this situation and skip out like it doesn’t mean anything.” Pan’s eyes had gone dark.

You stepped back, feeling tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Quickly, you ripped at the leather jacket hugging your figure, winding your arm back and throwing it at Anthony’s feet. He flinched but stayed still, staring defiantly at where the crumpled fabric lay on the ground.

“I hate you,” you whispered, frantically rubbing at tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “I hate you Pan, I hate you.”

You turned and ran and whether he watched you leave didn’t matter. Not even Tink’s desperate voice was enough to keep you from running and you so you did; running and running and running until you had practically no breath left and home was ahead.

The Lost Boys didn’t come to school anymore. Or at least, they hadn’t in the three-day period since the confrontation with the Pirates. You missed Tink desperately, Nibs too, and Slightly, and on that note, every single one of that band. Whether you liked it or not, they had been your family away from home. All you hoped was that they were preparing for a fight because Hook was undoubtedly bent on having what he wanted.

“You need to talk to Tink.” Nat’s ever-logical voice pulled you, once again, out of your shallow mulling.

“What? Why, what does that have to do with anything?” You, as usual, immediately deflected and focused on your, again, uneaten cafeteria lunch.

“It has to do with everything. (Y/N), this is ridiculous. You never sleep, there are bags under your eyes. You hardly eat, there’s nothing that you enjoy anymore. Most of all, you’re not…you’re not here anymore. It’s like you’re present in a shell but the rest of you is just…somewhere else.” Nat’s voice had a stern care to it and it was clear that you were hoping you would listen.

“I…” your deflection died in your throat. There was no point in denying any further. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You need to talk to Tink.” She said it with finality. “She’ll know what to do, I know it. You need that group of people. I know you don’t want to believe it but it’s true.”

“Nat, it’s over.” You looked up and just for a second, let her see just how broken you really felt. “All of it. There’s nothing left to fix, I can’t. I just can’t.”

After that, your friend stopped trying and maybe there was a blessing hidden in a curse there, but it didn’t feel like it. Instead, it just felt like pure, cold, untouched isolation.

Time was running short for the Lost Boys. You knew, just as well as they did, that Hook was ten times more vicious and willing to stoop as low as possible to get what he desired. In this case, it was Neverland. The boys were simply collateral damage. You wanted, desperately and more than anything, to reach out and contact them somehow but your pride had gotten in the way. In fact, no one other than Nat had tried to speak to you since the incident.

That was, until Tiger Lily entered the picture. When someone like her walked into the room, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know it. She had a striking sort of beauty about her, every one of her features seemed to be singing out in perfectly bold letters; jet black hair, warm copper-coloured skin and deep brown irises. It was the kind of beauty that graced Greek goddesses and female warriors from gilded storybooks. Tiger Lily didn’t go to your school; she led a band of equally lovely girls from her district, an allied counterpart of the Lost Boys. It was for this exact reason that the entire school fell into tense silence the moment she stepped into the room. Her dark brown eyes scanned the premises, a calm, calculated gaze. She promptly latched onto you and stepped, slowly and surely, in a straight line towards your table, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder as she slid into the seat next to you.

With that one action, the entire school seemed to burst at the seams. Waves of chatter rolled through every table, a mix of whispers and assumptions with you, cringing to make yourself the smallest shape possible. Ever since your fallout with the Lost Boys, the social hierarchy at school looked at you differently. After this, there was no way you could ever hope to lay low again. The murmurs continued and after Tiger Lily became too tired of waiting, she turned to the masses and help up one perfectly elegant hand. Immediately, the voices died down to a pleasant vibration and without a second of hesitation, she turned her focus to you.

“You’re (Y/N), right?” She questioned and the gravity to her voice surprised you. There was a pleasing huskiness to it that contradicted the elegant way she carried herself, a beautiful contrast.

“Y-Yes.” You barely managed to reply, shooting Nat a panicked glance. Your friend could only stare back at you with the same alarm.

“I’ve got a message,” she leaned forward, a duty in her tone. “From Tink.”

You could have melted at her words. An unparalleled relief tingled through your joints. “Tell me.”

“She wants to meet with you.” At this, she raised a single dark eyebrow and you tripped over yourself trying to agree.

“Where?”

“That club downtown, Belle Rêve.”

“Okay. How-how will I get there?”

Tiger Lily cracked a smile at that, emitting a musical, gravelly laugh. “You’ll travel with me, of course. Come on.”

“Wait,” you managed to choke out, your head spinning with development. “Why so soon?”

Tiger Lily had stood by now but she turned around to meet your eyes. Her gaze revealed a barely masked panic that you had become very well accustomed with over the last few days.

“(Y/N), I think you know, more than anyone, just how little time the Lost Boys have. If they’re going to get a winning chance, we need to go now.”

You sent her a nod that she accepted with an acknowledgment of her own. Hesitating slightly, you turned to Nat, bottom lip caught between your teeth. She sent you a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be fine. Go. You need to do this.”

Reaching out, you gave her hand a quick squeeze, you stood to follow Tiger Lily out, feeling the eyes of every person on your back and, as always, as if you were running out of time.

Belle Rêve, though exactly as you remembered it, was a completely different creature during the day. It lacked the thrill it carried in the dark of the night and the attendees were more sloth-like and half-lidded than the immortal feeling of young people ruling the night. This was the day drinking crowd.

“Tink’s in the back, I’ll show you.” Tiger Lily sent you a wave, her voice breaking you out of your stupor in moments.

Even in a place like this, Tiger Lily held the gaze of every person in the room. She didn’t seem to notice the attention that followed her around constantly. If she did, she remarkably good at hiding it. Her perfectly disinterested expression was part of the mystery she was and that only added to the magnetism that affected everyone around her. This was a princess on the tipping point of queen.

The hallway you walked was the exact same one that had led to Nat and the memory of Anthony’s hand, warm, real and wrapped around yours, punched you in the stomach with its presence. You visibly paled and stumbled on your feet but continued walking, determined to keep your priorities key. Tiger Lily noticed, sending you a half-worried look from the corner of her eye, but opting not to say anything. You were eternally grateful.

“She’s just through here,” she gestured at a red curtain, stepping aside to let you in first.

With only a single breath to prepare, you pushed the heavy fabric aside and, as always, moved forward.

Tink was perched on the edge of the couch, tension in every corner of her posture as she nursed a glass of amber liquid. A cigarette was dangling from between her trembling fingers and ash tumbled to the ground as she jerked her head upwards to get a glance at you. Before you knew it, she was moving like a blur towards you, glass left on the marble table with a slight ping. Her arms circled around your waist and you were left, wide-eyed, to contemplate how to maneuver a hug with Tink, of all people.

“You scared the shit out of us,” was all she said, the scent of her cigarette smoke wafting from behind you.

Near tears, you squeezed your eyes shut and returned her embrace with fervor, holding her body to yours, seeking warmth and friendship and just her goddamn presence.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured against her leather jacket. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t have-“

“Don’t,” she said and from her tone, you could hear the reassuring smile in her voice. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We forgive you.”

Those words alone were enough for the tears in your eyes to find release and mark trails down your cheek as you clung to her. As your breathing slowed and her grip started to loosen, you took in a slow breath as you pulled away, sending her a small, watery smile.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she returned the smile but it seemed much more forced than yours. “And I hate to ruin this, but…”

As she trailed off, you understood the gravity of the situation and nodded once, beckoning her over as you took a seat on the red couch. Tink returned to her spot, taking a sip of browned whisky as her breaths moved shakily through her lungs. Tiger Lily had returned, now accompanied by two drinks, one of which she sat down in front of you. A mute thank you was communicated in smiles.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured.

Pippa hesitated, taking the time to down the rest of her whisky. It was clear that she was in desperate need of some liquid courage.

“The Lost Boys are a mess, we don’t even know how to start with this clusterfuck of a situation. Pan has disappeared, hasn’t been seen at Neverland since you left.” Pippa paused. “We need you back.”

The air spiked with tension. Even Tiger Lily froze, looking between the two of you with a spark of curiosity. Your heart thumped against your ribcage.

“Tink, I don’t-“

“I know, I know.” She sighed, reaching up to pass a hand over her exhausted face. “It’s Pan, isn’t it.”

You let out a breath, falling back against the couch; eyes squeezed shut, as if to fend off sparkling memories gone bad.

“It always is,” Tiger Lily quipped, a bittersweet smile on her face.

A yawning chasm opened in your chest as words caught in your throat.

“What do you mean?”

Tiger Lily sighed, looking into her martini glass. “That boy has had three major counterparts in his life: you, Pippa, and myself. Anthony doesn’t…he doesn’t quite understand love. I think you’ve already found that out. And after he pushed me away and Pippa gave up, it just became known that the likelihood of someone else coming along was lessening each day. At least, that’s what we thought-“

“Until you.” Pippa glanced up, a wild sort of desperation in her eyes. You had never seen her so shaken. “Until you, (Y/N).”

You sent her a sad smile. “That’s sweet, but I think I’ve just joined the Jilted Lovers Club. You saw us, something…something broke.”

Tink squeezed her hands together in frustration. “I know. I know, and he’s the biggest asshole in the world, I realize that, but…(Y/N), I’ve never seen him like this before. I think when that something broke, it broke him too.”

Hands shaking, you set your glass down on the table, looking up to meet Tink’s gaze. “Pippa? What are you asking me to do?”

Tink was staring at her hands as the room boiled over with tension. Finally she looked up. “I need you to talk to Pan. I need you to convince him to come back.” It wasn’t the shock that stole the breath from your lungs. You had been expecting her to say something like that. It was the memories you were plunged into that crushed your heart under the pressure, like being underneath a thousand leagues of deep blue, almost black, water.

“Tink, I can’t.”

She breathed out. “Why?”

“I think…I think if it goes wrong…I don’t think my heart can take it.”

There was a pause and you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth grinding as you suppressed and internalized anything inconvenient that came up. You didn’t open your eyes again until Tink’s presence became tangible. She had closed a bit of distance between you on the couch, her eyes imploring and desperate.

“None of this is for him. This fight for Neverland is for Neverland. It is not for Pan or so the Lost Boys can keep their hold in this part of town or for bragging rights. It is not to keep our pride from being injured. We are fighting for each other. I fight for the Twins just as much as Curly does. I fight for Nibs and Tootles and Slightly and you, (Y/N), because you are one of us too. Pan is our leader, not our purpose. Come back to us. Talk to him. Please. I am begging you, (Y/N). We have to fight.”

You stared at her, barely breathing as she spoke. Every one of her words thundered in your mind, the impact nearly destroying you.

“I’ll do it. Not for him, not even for me. For all of you.”

Tink grinned, a sight you had missed. “We owe you one.”

“Where is he?”

Tink turned to Tiger Lily, raising an eyebrow. The girl in question set down her empty martini glass and stood, propping her hands up on her hips.

“There’s only one place Pan goes to drown his sorrows; The Lagoon.”

“And that is…?” You trailed off.

“It’s a bar, which I can get us into fairly easily. Only problem is that it’s in Mermaid territory.” Tiger Lily rolled her eyes at the mention of the fourth gang in the district.

“Why is that an issue?”

“Their leader Matsu and Pan are okay enough friends, but since he’s come alone and made it clear that he wants distance from the Lost Boys, I’m not sure if her hospitality will extend to us too.

Tink stood, waving you towards the doorway. “Come on. We’ve got a date with a couple mermaids and a fairy boy.”

The Mermaids had a freezing cold kind of beauty that belonged to ladies of the lake of legend. They were an eccentric group that kept to themselves, staying modest in their territory but fiercely protective. Each one of them was hypnotizingly beautiful with a crackling air of danger that seemed to spark from their skin. They were the sirens responsible for the shipwrecks of lost sailors. Stray too close and they will bite.

Matsu is the leader and it only takes one look to understand why. She is tall, sleek and visibly untouchable. Her name comes from the Chinese deity, a goddess of the sea who doubles as the powerful and miraculous Queen of Heaven. Each and every one of Matsu’s movements is slow and purposeful, every one of her limbs seemingly floating as if perpetually suspended deep under water. Her eyes are impossibly obsidian, hair just as dark and olive skin glowing with a blue-ish tint. Unlike the Pirates and the Lost Boys, she chooses to be gloriously neutral, rising above every single conflict that mark Pan’s knuckles and cause Hook’s nose to bleed. She is the queen of a nonpartisan nation but a short fuse in conflicts around her might just one day force her hand. The Mermaids, whether they liked it or not, would have to fight.

In their part of town, the Mermaids had a stronghold in a bar appropriately named The Lagoon. Pan didn’t frequent the place but he had a stable enough tie to Matsu that allowed him to come in without needing to worry about a bouncer throwing him out. It was the only place, other than Neverland, that Pan could visit to disappear from the rest of the world.

Daylight was fading from sight as Tiger Lily’s car pulled up to the place. Afternoon was quickly turning to evening and in the conflicting war of light versus dark, the neon green sign seemed to take on a haunting sort of flicker.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of town before,” you murmured, partially to yourself as you took in the surroundings.

“The Mermaids keep to themselves. They’re not hard to find on a map but there’s hell to pay if you try to get in uninvited. Come on.” Tink beckoned you forward, taking the lead through the door as you followed behind, flanked by Tiger Lily.

The hallway was darkened and oddly deserted. There was no one to check ID at the door, no tall intimidating presence blocking the doorway, just a long stretch of black tile that felt foreign under your feet. Finally, after twisting through the maze like corridor for what seemed like an eternity, blue and green lights appeared at the end of one last turn and you emerged from the tunnel like hallway into a darkened bar filled with aquamarine undertones.

In the center of the room, a tall woman stood perfectly still, her hair pulled up in a neat and purposeful braided bun, two attendants at her elbow.

“Matsu. It’s nice to see you,” Tink smiled, not even missing a beat. Her voice was civil but there was a tension underneath it.

“It’s been a while.” Matsu replied, her voice cool and enchanting. “Hello, Tiger Lily.”

Tiger Lily barely made a move of recognition, only bothering to tilt her head down slightly. “Matsu.”

“And who is this?” Matsu enquired, lifting a perfect eyebrow as she turned her sight toward you.

“My name is (Y/N),” you managed, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “And I think you know why we’re here.”

Matsu smiled at that, her glossy pink lips catching blue light. She stepped forward, the click of her heels echoing loudly, even against the beat that pumped from the speakers. She had closed some considerable distance and with her so near, your heart thudded painfully in your chest.

“I do,” she admitted, eyes assessing as she stared at you. “The only problem is whether I feel charitable enough to let you have what you want.”

“Matsu, if you think-“ Tink started but you put a hand on her arm, silently asking for civility.

“Please.” You breathed. “Please do this. I know this is your territory and we respect that. This is not an offensive approach. We just came here to talk to Anthony. Please, Matsu.”

You met her eyes directly and her assessment slowed there. Her hand dropped from her hip as she searched your expression. Something in Matsu’s demeanor switched and she breathed out, stepping back. One hand lifted to point down the left hallway.

“He’s in there.”

Pulling up a smile, you nodded, stepping quietly down a small turn off, Tink and Tiger Lily following behind. The next room was more brightly lit but it still carried that blue glow that simulated an underwater feeling. Your eyes searched the room desperately until your heart stuttered to an uncomfortable stop.

Perched on a bar stool, whisky in hand, a boy in a white t-shirt with a head of curly hair filled the room with a wild presence. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket anymore. Your breath escaped in a single second and you froze, hands trembling at your side. The world started closing in, blood roaring in your ears until you felt Tink’s tentative touch at your arm. You turned to her with glazed eyes and she sent you a smile.

“For each other, right?” She murmured.

“For each other.” You replied.

Your steps were shaky but purposeful and time seemed to slow as you attempted to close space between you and Pan. This was the perspective you always had, almost close enough to touch him but too far away to do so. He was always so infuriatingly near.

Soon enough, you had appeared beside him, settling down on a leather stool. He didn’t address you at all, seemingly numb to his surroundings. The only movement he exhibited was to bring his glass to his lips.

“I’ll have a dry Vesper, please.” You signalled the bartender, sending her a smile as thanks.

“I thought you didn’t like martinis.”

His abrupt speech startled you and your gaze whipped from the marble counters to his side profile. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, seemingly so from disuse. It was either that or he had been smoking too much.

“It’s not that I don’t like them. I just prefer Sex on the Beach.”

“The act, or the drink?”

His choice of words echoed from the first time you had met him, pearly white teeth gleaming in the dark lights of the club.

“Oh, that’s real class.” You murmured, repeating the exact same remark you had thrown back.

A half smile twisted the corner of his lips up and finally, finally, it was like you could breath again. The bartender set your martini down and you nodded your thanks, taking a drink before setting it down, a breath moving steadily in, then out.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)?” He murmured, reaching into his leather jacket to retrieve a box of Newport cigarettes and a lighter.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m the one who’s supposed to drag your dumb ass back to Neverland.”

He snorts a laugh at that, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette before speaking again. “Of course. I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think I’m coming back.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach out for the bottom of his stool, spinning his seat to the side so you can look at him straight on. Not yet satisfied with his level of concentration, you reach your hand out and snatch the cigarette from between his fingers. His eyes widen but he stays relatively still.

“Just shut up and listen, would you? I’m not here for you. I almost didn’t come when Tink asked me to.”

“Why am I not surprised that she-“

“What did I say about listening, Pan? Like I said, I’m not here as some whining, brokenhearted admirer of yours. This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, hell, it’s bigger than the Lost Boys too. You owe it to those people to fight. You’re the leader, Pan. That means something. You can’t just drop out of sight when it appeals to you.” Momentarily satisfied with the impact of your words, you pause.

The cigarette in your hand is glowing orange and something about its light is so enchanting that you bring it to your lips, moving slowly. You catch a look of shock pass over Pan’s face as you inhale, then breathe out, a cloud furling elegantly from your mouth. It sets your pounding heart at rest. You reach your arm out and pass the cigarette back to him as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t. I’m just trying to prove something.”

“And what’s that?”

“That just because something is out of character, that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to do it. Just because it’s not usually something you do, it’s okay to exhibit and express your emotion. It’s okay to feel attached to the Lost Boys. It’s okay because, fuck what other people think.”

He’s looking at you cautiously now, guard slowly falling as he mulls over your words and takes another drag off his cigarette. “Tink was fuckin’ smart to choose you to come get me.”

Your mouth pushes into a grin against your own will. You swivel on your seat, turning back to the bar counter to drink from your martini glass. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

Pan downs the rest of his whisky, looking down, his free hand drumming a quiet beat against the counter. “No.”

Your teeth grind with frustration, hands curling into fists against the marble. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“(Y/N) it’s just too-“

“No. Don’t give me that shit. God, you are un-fucking-believable. These are the people you treat like a second goddamn family. This is a group of refused souls that you pulled together. I might have gotten us in this situation. I’ll take the blame for it if that’s what you want. But if you don’t have enough in you to get us out of this hole, I don’t think you’re good enough to be that person. The one who heads the charge, the leader, the king of the Lost Boys. If this is the case, you don’t deserve the crown. We fucking need you, Anthony.” You’re standing by now, two steps farther away from him as you prepare to storm out.

He freezes there, hands still as his cigarette burns its last few breaths. “Do you need me?”

There’s a pause. “That’s not relevant.”

“Yes, Jesus Christ, it is. Say it.”

“No.”

“Please. I want to hear it, just once.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Why?”

You take in a breath, eyes closing. “Because it’s true. And I think you know that. Just come back to us. Please?”

Anthony turns slowly, facing you with soft, glimmering eyes. “I can’t. I’m scared.”

Again, you are struck with the realization that he is just as young as you. This is a boy in front of you, lost, wild and desperate as hell. But that doesn’t mean he’s an exception. A fire of hurt and anger rises up in your chest and you turn away.

“We’re all scared, Anthony. It’s just that the rest of us are deciding to face up to this fight anyway.”

With that, you leave the room with quick, long strides, seeing Tink and Tiger Lily hovering at the end of the hallway.

“So? How did it go?” Pippa asks, anticipation clear in her posture.

“You’re right. He is an asshole. Come on, we should get to Neverland. We’ve got a fight to prepare for.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the event of coming back to Neverland. The place had changed considerably. Plants were starting to wither, brown tinges appearing on previously healthy leaves. The pines were shedding layers of needles that created a thick matt on top of the roots. The sky had lost its perfect, cloudless blue. Everything was turning gray and you knew that it was due to Anthony’s absence. With Pan gone, Neverland was dying.

However, coming back to the rest of the boys filled you with such a sense of pride and nostalgia that a tear almost slipped from your eye. The moment Tink pushed open the projection room’s screen door and waved to you with a grand flourish, a loud whoop went up and the room burst into cheers.

“(Y/N)! It’s good to see you,” the Twins grinned in unison.

“There’s my girl,” Nibs threw out, one fist in the air.

“You’re back.” Curly smiled.

Slightly only sent you a wink and a smile.

“Welcome home,” Tootles smiled softly, but it was clear through the lines in his face that tension had been high recently.

“I couldn’t convince Pan to come back, but I promise you, I am here.” You sent all of them a smile. “We have a couple days left so let’s get ready.”

Preparing meant more than just learning how to fight. Making sure the authorities wouldn’t interrupt the fight was paramount to the survival of Neverland. If the police found out a bunch of teenaged delinquents were squatting on privately owned property, and organizing fights on it, there would be hell to pay. Nibs took it upon himself to teach you how to fight, making sure you felt comfortable in your own skill. The Twins scoped out a covered path as an escape route if anything truly went wrong. Slightly and Tink took to rebuilding the gate that closed at the steel sign, swearing up and down that when the Lost Boys fought and won Neverland, this gate would make it clear that this was their territory. Tiger Lily, unable to convince her own group to get involved in the conflict, had stayed to personally help as much as she could.

Time went fast. Too fast, and now you were standing in front of a group of half-scared, half-enraged teenagers about to dive into a rumble headfirst. The clearing you had arranged to meet in was close enough to Neverland to feel the brunt of the rot that seemed to be a result of Pan’s absence. The forest lush around you was turning brown.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “So today is the day. Tink told me, when she was convincing me to come back to this place, that the Lost Boys fight for each other. They don’t fight for themselves, or their pride, or even for Pan. We fight because we’re kind of…”

“Family,” Oak spoke up, his voice strong and sure.

You sent him a grin. “Yeah. We’re kind of family. And honestly, this is the best kind of family anyone could ask for. So maybe some of us have our vices, and maybe some of us are a little beat up but that’s okay. We’re okay. We are going to be okay. I promise. We’re outnumbered, and scared and we might not be able to have this place anymore, but let’s think about us instead. I mean, the Lost Boys deserve glory, but we deserve respect and love too.”

“You’re goddamn right,” Slightly grinned.

You looked around, remembering the youthful glimmer in every look they returned. It was a misshapen but happy group, perfectly imperfect. It struck you, then and there, that you were a little bit in love with all of them. Every single Lost Boy.

A collective gasp rolled through all seven people. Their eyes were trained on something behind you. A familiar spark flew through your veins. You turned slowly, almost sure of what you were about to see but unable to believe it.

There he was. Pan, in all his boyish, fairy dust glory, hair falling haphazardly out of his ponytail. His leather jacket, the only icon that belonged to the Lost Boys sloped over his shoulders. He had come back, and not alone. Eight Mermaids, beautiful, cold, untouchable women followed him, their sheer number balancing your group out easily with the number of people under Hook’s grasp.

“You guys weren’t thinking of having all this fun without me, were you?” Anthony grinned.

Nibs was shaking his head, a grin tilting his lips up as he crossed his arms. “You motherfucker.”

Pan approached, the Mermaids melding into the group, and took a spot beside you. The dynamic between you two had changed. Instead of protection, he was offering support now.

“Seems like you thought about what I said,” you grinned, propping a hand on your hip as you stared at him.

“I did,” he smiled, turning serious. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“For what?”

“For trying.”

“Anytime,” you replied.

Pan turned around, eyes flicking over each member of his motley crew. “I think I owe you all an apology. I didn’t think about you guys when I disappeared and that was my biggest mistake. You guys deserve better.”

“Yeah, but who cares?” You shrugged, sending Anthony a small smile. “We like it this way. You’re a good leader, Ant. You’re king of the Lost Boys.”

The rumble of motorcycle engines echoed in the distance, getting closer with each passing second. The Pirates were on their way.

“Well then,” Pan breathed out, facing forward as a spark of determination lit in his eyes. “A king must fight for his people.”

#anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos imagine #hamilcast imagine #peter pan au #kotlb #king of the lost boys

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dweemeister · 5 years

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Best Live Action Short Film Nominees for the 91st Academy Awards (2019, listed in order of appearance in the shorts package)

At the Academy Awards, Best Documentary Short Film and Live Action Short Film usually trade off for being the most depressing of the three short film categories. This year (and I understand this is being posted later than usual), there was no let-up in Live Action Short Film. There typically is at least one comedic short in this category, but one suspects the animation and short film branch of the Academy (which votes to nominate this category) was in no laughing mood this year. Here are the nominees:

Madre (2017, Spain)

Shortly before working on his Goya Award-winning film The Realm, Spanish filmmaker Rodrigo Sorogoyen pieced together Madre (“mother” in English) – which he is hoping to adapt into a feature film soon. The film is any parent’s nightmare. Marta (Marta Nieto) is the mother to six-year-old Iván (voiced by Álvaro Balas). Just after entering her apartment with her own mother (Blanca Apilánez), she receives a phone call from Iván – who has been spending a vacation with Marta’s ex-husband somewhere in southern France. Iván sounds panicked; his father is nowhere to be found and he is one a beach with no one in sight. Marta tells Iván – who does not know whether he is in France or Spain – to remain calm as her mother calls the police.

Madre begins innocuously, building into Marta’s fully justified panic as the situation intensifies, the battery on Iván’s phone drains, and certain unknown elements are never answered. Sorogoyen’s film begins and ends with an ambiguous pan across a shoreline at dusk – between the bookending shots is an uncut take of at least fifteen minutes showing Marta and her mother pacing about her apartment squabbling amongst each other, later experiencing absolute terror for Iván. The camerawork and lack of cuts is impressive, but Sorogoyen does not use the apartment setting well, as it seems the camera too often is unsure where to drift next during the action. That Madre remains engaging once the audience learns something is amiss is an incredible achievement, but the poor framing and awkward transition in the final moments dilute the impact.

My rating: 7.5/10

Fauve (2018, Canada)

Shot near Thetford Mines in Québec, Jérémy Comte’s Fauve won the Special Jury Prize at the 2018 Sundance Film Festival and an Honorable Mention for Best Canadian Short Film from the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF). Here,Tyler (Félix Grenier) and Benjamin (Alexandre Perreault) are spending one overcast afternoon playing in places far off from home. They are keeping score on how many times they have misled the other – physically, psychologically, and especially verbally. Their play brings them to a mine that is not quite abandoned, as they descend into what appears to be an asbestos pit. One of the misleading pranks goes horribly wrong – a day that began innocently turns to tragedy.

Superb child performances cannot save Fauve’s screenplay (by Comte) from saying much of anything. The film captures the recklessness of boyhood that sprouts – for other boys to see, for everyone else to find for themselves later – just before one’s teenage years. Amid an expanse of grays, we see how damaging the one-upmanship can be when left unsupervised, without the guidance and wisdom of adults or older children who know better. The film’s most visible plot device – which, ostensibly, appears twice in the film (the first time is off-screen) – is employed with zero nuance the second instance it is invoked. Tyler and Benjamin’s story comes to fruition because of their shared fatal flaws. But Fauve never deepens our understanding beyond those flaws – severing a sterling opportunity to empathize with the boys even after their litany of terrible decisions.

My rating: 7/10

Marguerite (2017, Canada)

Director Marianne Farley is primarily an actor in Canadian films and television and she directs her second short film in Marguerite. The film, which has made the film festival rounds in North America and Europe, centers on the elderly Marguerite (Béatrice Picard, who will be ninety years old in July) and her days in which she is being tended to by in-home nurse Rachel (Sandrine Bisson). Marguerite has trouble moving around the house, speaks of no friends or family. Her interactions with Rachel are the only moments of lightness and sociability she displays. If Marguerite has shared little of herself in the past, it would be no surprise. For it is Rachel’s presence – and who she is – that helps Marguerite to open up about something she has held secret for all her life. Marguerite, in her youth, was attracted to women at a time when being out as queer would have ruined her wellbeing.

Marguerite never overplays its hand – it does not shamelessly aim for the tear ducts, nor does it make Marguerite’s sexuality the only interesting thing about her. Picard plays Marguerite as a woman nearing the twilight of her time on Earth, often wearing a distant gaze, as if reaching into a lifetime of memories and lessons learned. Bisson, as Rachel, intuits what suffering this older woman has gone through and how the heartbreak of never living as oneself has been processed over decades of self-denial and silence. The warm colors of Marguerite’s residence make her home feel lived in – an effect that desaturation or a drab, white- and gray-dominated household would have prevented. Farley’s second film is economical and deeply sensitive. It makes its statements about being oneself with quiet grace.

My rating: 8.5/10

Detainment (2018)

From Ireland comes a short film singed by the hot coals of controversy. Vincent Lambe’s Detainment is based on the interview transcripts of the two 10-year-old Liverpudlian children who murdered two-year-old James Bulger in February 1993 (several transcripts were never released to the jury, as they were deemed too distressing). Denise Fergus, Bulger’s mother, has denounced the film for not consulting with her or the family. Lambe was not required to attain the family’s permission, but the film carries with it the baggage of potential exploitation. That controversy aside, Detainment feels exploitative. Jon Venables (Ely Sloan) and Robert Thompson (Leon Hughes), having been arrested on suspicion for murdering Bulger, are in separate interrogation rooms with their parents (and, the movie never makes this clear, hopefully their lawyers) taking questions. A prisoner’s dilemma takes root, as narrative inconsistencies during the two interviews are picked apart, revealing how dark childhood cruelty can be.

But Detainment does little outside of that. Sloan and Hughes’ respective performances never change gears – denial and blame-shifting, defensive and utterly fearful. The poor performances hinder a fascinating concept, turning intrigue into ghastly manipulation. Slow-motion flashbacks to showcase the crime wreck the film’s pacing; the hand-held camera throughout displays little variation in framing. An abhorrent moment has inspired a poor film, with questions lingering over whether this film should have been made at all.

My rating: 5/10

Skin (2018)

Not to be confused with Guy Nattiv’s feature-length film of the same name (and also released in 2018), Nattiv’s short film Skin is a shocking commentary on racial relations that – in a year where Green Book won the Academy Award for Best Picture – also approaches white-black relations from its white characters, caricaturing some of the black characters found within. A young child named Troy (Jackson Robert Scott, whose character of Georgie was killed in the opening minutes of 2017′s It) is the son of skinheads. Father Jeffrey (Jonathan Tucker) and mother Christa (Danielle Macdonald) regularly listen to skinhead metal and shoot firearms with their fellow skinhead friends. One day at the grocery store, a black man namd Jaydee (Ashley Thomas) mimes a toy superhero’s movements for Troy at the checkout line. Jeffrey believes Jaydee has been, “fucking with [his] kid”, and proceeds – along with his skinhead friends – to spew racial epithets and assault Jaydee right in front of his awaiting family.

But a faceless black gang will capture Jeffrey and give him his comeuppance. Skin attempts to argue how acts of hatred influence the children that witness them. But treating its black characters as an “other” – especially how the gang is depicted – undermine the message. Yes, Skin is adopting a child’s point of view. The problem with that argument is that Troy’s racial attitudes have not been solidified yet; Nattiv and co-screenwriter Sharon Maymon impose the parental perspective onto Troy. There is a tonal, developmental, and ideological disconnect that plagues the movie from that moment Troy and his friends bloody Jaydee in the grocery store’s parking lot. A promising premise is weakened by imposing the adults’ lens on a child not even close to finalizing what he will be and what he believes.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

From previous years: 85th Academy Awards (2013), 87th (2015), 88th (2016), 89th (2017), and 90th (2018).

#Madre #Fauve #Marguerite #Detainment #Skin #Rodrigo Sorogoyen #Jeremy Comte #Marianne Farley #Vincent Lambe #Guy Nattiv #My Movie Odyssey

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crossedswordsrp · 7 years

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The Philanthropist

❛ Nobody important? That’s amazing. Did you know, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before? ❜

Full Name Pierre Chauveau Age 34 (b. 1607) Alliance The Crown/ La clinique du peuple (The People’s Clinic) Position Royal Physician Negative Traits Reserved, Trusting, Presumptuous Positive Traits Meticulous, Focused, Caring

Part of a bourgeois family and the youngest son of a Huguenot schoolmaster, Pierre Chauveau was born in the town of Sarlat in southwestern France. There, he passed a relatively idyllic childhood, consistently overshadowed by four boisterous older brothers. By far holding the quietest temperament of his siblings, and with a busy father and besieged mother, he took well to his lessons, receiving grounding in traditional classical subjects by his father’s friend and great Latin scholar Thaddée Boisselot. After a stint of further schooling in his native town, Pierre saw his future relatively confined by his background. As a Protestant and a member of the bourgeois, the traditional routes for a younger son – the clergy and the military, seemed far out of reach. Possessing a keen interest in academics and a sharp mind, forever restless and quick to learn, he set his sights on the enterprise of medicine.

Although the University of Paris was the first choice of many would-be medical students, doors to Protestants were still tightly closed. As such, an eighteen year old Pierre decided upon the Medical Faculty of Montpellier in the southeast of France. A bastion of novel medical ideas and friendly to incoming Protestants, the young man excelled at the university, who focused far more on practical training than the University of Paris. After graduating at twenty-one with his Doctorate in Medicine, he spent several years traveling around inside and outside the Kingdom of France in order to further solidify his knowledge – focusing much of his time in both England and Germany. Upon arriving back in France, he was determined to ply his trade back in his hometown of Sarlat, where he was struck upon arrival just how badly things had gotten.

The town of Sarlat wasn’t entirely unused to tragedy – a smallpox epidemic had burned through surrounding villages in 1615 when Pierre was nine, and he had vague memories of the mass exodus into Sarlat by the desperate survivors of pox-stricken areas, and the often harsh cut-offs that the town itself had orchestrated to avoid becoming overwhelmed. Despite attempts to control the exodus, even fifteen years on there were still the clear remnants of the tragedy in the masses of people clearly still desperate for work. Sarlat was still struggling to combat the obvious problems of unemployment and potential civil chaos. Wiser since his travels, seeing beggars and the impoverished everywhere he had stopped, Pierre understood that while what was happening in Sarlat was an extreme example, it was hardly a unique one. He began to spread his ideas around Sarlat’s intellectual circles, focusing upon the idea of job training for the poor and aid for the poor that cut across devotional lines – for Protestants as well as for Catholics. Although such ideas caused a minor stir in the small town, they might have gone nowhere, had they not caught the ear of a visiting Cardinal Rossignol.

Struck by the quiet young man’s determination and hearing of his particular skills in medicine, the Cardinal invited him back with him to Paris to present his ideas of how to improve the situation of the poor and destitute to a wider audience. As a result, the young man, hardly more than twenty-three years of age, found himself speaking before the Court concerning the importance of job training and aid to the poor. As a result of this audience, he had impressed the new ruling King Alexandre Valois so much that he was granted the court’s support – and a position as Royal Physician.

This commitment and support from the King would allow him to turn his considerable will to aiding the destitute of Paris. Not only that, it would allow him to combat the feelings of extreme hatred and distrust towards the growing poor. He did his best to change the conceptions of poverty as something innate, and began to focus upon it as a problem in itself – the poor were not depraved, they simply had no work. While he petitioned the Court to focus on jobs creation programs, he did what he could in his own right – which was to open the first free medical consultation clinic in Paris in 1631.

Funded by the Crown and staffed by several young graduates from the University of Paris as well as himself when his newfound position of Royal Physician didn’t conflict, La clinique du peuple, or the People’s Clinic, took off. A small, but carefully cared for building in the heart of Paris near to the Court of Miracles; it fills the gaps between the larger and overtaxed hospitals such as the Hôtel-Dieu de Paris. The logic behind the enterprise was, of course, that a healthier person might be better equipped to look for work. Still, the chance to aid those who need it most, who would have little else to turn to, is what truly motivated him and continues to motivate him to this day.

Although he is undoubtedly overworked, forever torn between his duties and home at Court and his duties as overseer of his free clinic, he is never without something to do. His travels throughout France, England and Germany as well as his practical training caring for the poor have made him a capable surgeon, in addition to his formal training as a physician. Although such practical skills are often looked down upon in the medical field, he is not afraid to roll up his sleeves. Known for his kindness and his dry wit, as well as practical, gentle hands, he is equally at home working among the elite of France’s society as well as among the most wretched and the most desperate – seeing them all as people in need of assistance, and of equal importance in a time where the impoverished were denigrated as little more than beasts.

Connections

Alexandre Valois – Appointed as Royal Physician by a newly crowned Alexandre in 1630, he has long been grateful to him for his support in his employment as well as his upkeep of his clinic. Pierre is personally as well as professionally invested in the younger man’s well being and sees in him as much of a friend as a ruler, their temperaments and sense of gentle humor complimenting each other well.

Cardinal Rossignol – He is grateful for the Cardinal’s patronage, although, as per his reputation, he expects his interest in philanthropy is more focused on placating the poor than true compassion. Pierre attempts to stay out of as much as possible any political rumors or disagreements that arise concerning the Court. These include rumors surrounding Rossignol’s actions, particularly rumors of involvement in the Court of Miracles. As long as he can continue to do his work, he is not a man to chase words that may be far from true.

This character is portrayed by JAMES MCAVOY and is TAKEN

#pierre #james mcavoy #civilian #taken

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mastcomm · 4 years

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The Lakers Are Elite Again, and Ready to ‘Turn Up’

Lakers Coach Frank Vogel could have been concerned. The N.B.A. All-Star break was looming and his team still had one more game to go. But Vogel said he could sense from his players, and from LeBron James in particular, that they were focused.

“You could just tell that he was really, really locked in,” Vogel told reporters after the Lakers’ 120-116 overtime victory over the Denver Nuggets on Wednesday, “and that this was not a foot-out-the-door-towards-the-break kind of game, that he was going to have a playoff mind-set to it. And he showed that throughout the game.”

The Lakers had their share of skeptics at the start of the season. How would Vogel, in his first season on the job, handle the team’s colorful assemblage of egos? Were the Lakers deep enough to contend for a title? Was James washed up after missing a big chunk of last season because of injuries? And how would he mesh with Anthony Davis?

These were all reasonable questions. But with about two months remaining in the regular season now, the Lakers have shown that they are, in fact, for real — and lately they have done so while the entire organization mourns Kobe Bryant’s death.

The Lakers’ win against the Nuggets — highlighted by James’s triple-double — pushed their record to a Western Conference-leading 41-12, four games better than second-place Denver. Only the Milwaukee Bucks (46-8), with championship hopes of their own, have a better record. After Wednesday’s win, James was asked about the importance of securing the top seed in the West.

“We don’t talk about it,” he said. “We really don’t. We just play the game the right way.”

Here is a closer look at how the Lakers have re-established themselves as N.B.A. royalty:

The Ageless King

Following James’s celebrated introduction to the Lakers, last season was a disaster for him. He injured his groin on Christmas Day, missed a big chunk of the season and then watched the playoffs from home for the first time since 2005, his second year with the Cleveland Cavaliers.

Was this the beginning of the end for James? His struggles fed into the narrative that he had only relocated to the Lakers because he wanted to live in Los Angeles, where he has his production company and spent last summer filming “Space Jam 2.” LeBron, in other words, had gone Hollywood. Was basketball still his priority?

Not so fast. Now 35 years old and plowing through his 17th N.B.A. season, James is back to playing some of the best basketball of his career. Pick an adjective, any adjective: efficient, polished, determined. A prolific user of Instagram, James has made a habit of punctuating his social media posts with a pair of hashtags — #WashedKing and #RevengeSeason — that allude to the unnamed critics who thought his game was in decline.

“Just very hungry,” James said of his approach to the season, “very enthused, very motivated on trying to put this team in position to be as successful as we can be.”

In addition to averaging 25 points and 7.8 rebounds a game while shooting 48.9 percent from the field, James has never been a better playmaker. He is averaging a career-best 10.8 assists per game, which leads the league. His ability, along with his willingness, to act as a pass-first distributor has been enhanced by the presence of Davis, who has been dunking a lot of James’s lobs. But James, one of just three remaining players from his draft class, is playing like he still has much to prove.

The Addition of Anthony Davis

Speaking of Davis, remember his 2018-19 season? He asked the New Orleans Pelicans to trade him, a request they rebuffed when they turned down the Lakers’ heated overtures. The entire soap opera cast a shadow over both organizations for months. The Lakers’ fragile chemistry crumbled.

By July, the Lakers finally had the pieces to swing a deal for Davis and sent the Pelicans three first-round picks along with several members of their young core, including Lonzo Ball and Brandon Ingram, who earned his first All-Star selection this season. The Lakers had essentially decided to mortgage their future for the chance to pair Davis with James and win championships right away.

The good news for the Lakers is that Davis has been terrific. Really terrific, averaging 26.6 points, 9.2 rebounds, 2.4 blocks and 1.6 steals a game. Vogel described him as the “defensive player of the year.” The Lakers rank among the top five teams in the league in overall defensive rating while limiting opponents to 44.6 percent shooting.

At the same, Davis has, for the most part, stayed healthy, and so has James, which is the key to everything. The Lakers cannot expect to win much of anything without either of them — they are the best duo in the league. Against the Nuggets on Wednesday, they combined for 65 points and 22 rebounds.

The Supporting Cast

None of which is meant to suggest that James and Davis can win games by themselves. The rest of the team has, too, exceeded expectations. To be clear: Few figured that the Lakers would have quite this much depth after they traded about half their rotation to the Pelicans.

Alex Caruso, a fan favorite who went undrafted out of Texas A&M in 2016, has solidified his role off the bench as a defensive stopper. Kentavious Caldwell-Pope has developed into a dependable shooter. Danny Green and Avery Bradley are experienced pros. And Dwight Howard, in his latest reclamation attempt, has emerged as the biggest surprise of all.

Signed to a non-guaranteed deal by the Lakers in August after DeMarcus Cousins tore a ligament in his left knee, Howard has enthusiastically embraced his job as a backup center. He has also found moments to shine. Consider his performance against Denver on Wednesday: In addition to defending the All-Star Nikola Jokic for long stretches, Howard collected 14 points and 11 rebounds in 30 minutes. Caruso was solid, too: In his 22 minutes on the floor, the Lakers outscored the Nuggets by 23 points. James praised both players after the game.

“Dwight came in,” James said, “and changed the game from an offensive rebounding standpoint, just bullying whoever was on him, being able to get to the free throw, getting us into the bonus, getting us some dunks, giving us some extra possessions. And A.C. defensively was just so in tune, getting steals, getting stops, getting strips.”

A Frank Voice on the Bench

In the aftermath of the helicopter crash last month that killed Bryant and eight others, including his daughter Gianna, Vogel stepped forward as the face of the Lakers. For three straight days at the team’s practice facility, Vogel was the sole member of the organization who addressed the news media.

He spoke about how his players were grieving, about how James had been a rock for his teammates and about how the Lakers intended to move forward.

“We want to represent what Kobe was about more than anything,” Vogel said at the time, adding: “It’s just strengthened what we’ve felt all year about our current group, which is that we’ve become a family in a very short time. And it’s something you talk about in the N.B.A. with your teams, but this group in particular has really grown to love each other very rapidly.”

Coaching the Lakers is not an easy job under any circumstances, but Vogel, with a deft touch, has managed everything this season: an unimaginable tragedy, outsize expectations and all the ancillary pressures that come with coaching James in one of the league’s splashiest markets. Vogel has consistently sought his players’ input and feedback.

In the process, he appears to have earned their trust, and the Lakers have been rewarding his approach by winning. They want to keep it going.

“The second half of the season, it’s time to turn up,” Howard said.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/sport/the-lakers-are-elite-again-and-ready-to-turn-up-2/

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

Text

A Reformed White Nationalist Says the Worst Is Yet to Come

Christian Picciolini discusses the mainstreaming of white nationalism, what it takes to de-radicalize far-right extremists, and why the problem is metastasizing.

Yara BayoumyKathy Gilsinan |Published Aug 6, 2019 | The Atlantic | Posted August 8, 2019 11:13 AM ET |

It’s going to get worse.

That’s the warning of a former violent extremist, Christian Picciolini, who joined a neo-Nazi movement 30 years ago and now tries to get people out of them. White-supremacist terrorists—the ones who have left dozens dead in attacks in Pittsburgh, New Zealand, and El Paso, Texas, in recent months—aren’t just trying to outdo one another, he told us. They’re trying to outdo Timothy McVeigh, the anti-government terrorist who blew up an Oklahoma City federal building and killed more than 100 people in 1995—the worst terrorist attack in the United States before September 11, 2001.

Read: How white-supremacist violence echoes other forms of terrorism

On Saturday morning in El Paso, a gunman shot and killed 22 people, including children, at a Walmart. The store was crowded for back-to-school-shopping season. The victims included a high-school student, an elementary-school teacher, and a couple carrying their infant son, who survived. And the shooter, according to an online manifesto authorities attributed to the suspect, saw himself fighting a “Hispanic invasion” as he gunned them down.

That shooting, along with another one hours later, in which an attacker killed nine people over 30 seconds in Dayton, Ohio, renewed the clamor for gun-control laws that has become a grim ritual after such events. But Picciolini said that even if the U.S. could get a handle on its gun problem, terrorists can always find other ways. McVeigh had his car bomb, the September 11th hijackers had their airplanes, Islamic State attackers have suicide bombings, trucks, and knives. “I have to ask myself, Do we have white-nationalist airline pilots?” Picciolini said. “There have to be. I knew people in powerful positions, in politics, in law enforcement, who were secretly white nationalists. I think we’d be stupid and selfish to think that we don’t have those in the truck-driving industry.”

Picciolini now runs a global network, the Free Radicals Project, where former extremists like him provide counseling to others trying to leave extremist movements. He spoke with us yesterday morning about the mainstreaming of white nationalism, what it takes to de-radicalize far-right extremists, and why the problem is metastasizing.

A condensed and edited transcript of the conversation follows.

Yara Bayoumy: What are your thoughts in the aftermath of El Paso?

Christian Picciolini: I’m as horrified as everyone else is. And frustrated, because this is something I’ve been banging the drum about for 20 years—that the escalation of violence would get worse. The [white-supremacist] ideology is spreading more into the mainstream than it ever has before. There aren’t checks and balances to counter it. There aren’t programs being funded to help people disengage from extremism. Some of the rhetoric coming from the very top is emboldening extremists.

Bayoumy: Talk to us about the evolution you’ve seen since you were in the movement 30 years ago—these views used to be on the fringe, and now are much more mainstream.

Picciolini: Unfortunately, I think that the underpinnings of the ideology have always been there. The extremists were on the fringe, and very visible, but other people weren’t willing to voice those beliefs. Thirty years ago, when I was in the movement, we were turning off the average American white racists who didn’t want to be so open and visible about those beliefs. So there was this effort to make it more mainstream, to grow the hair out, turn in the “boots for suits.” I never thought we would have a social and political climate that really kind of brought it to the foreground. Because it’s starting to seem less like a fringe ideology and more like a mainstream ideology.

Kathy Gilsinan: What role does the internet play? There’s a lot of discussion about internet radicalization for members of ISIS—is this a parallel process for white-supremacist movements, or are there differences?

Picciolini: It’s a very parallel process. The propaganda is very similar. The internet itself is a platform. Thirty years ago, marginalized, broken, angry young people had to be met face-to-face to get recruited into a movement. Nowadays, those millions and millions of young people are living most of their lives online if they don’t have real-world connections. And they’re finding a community online instead of in the real world, and having conversations about promoting violence.

Bayoumy: What about the shooter’s apparent anti-immigrant manifesto? Does anything in it strike you as surprising?

Picciolini: Unfortunately I’ve read every one of these things, since the first, in 2009, when James von Brunn walked into the D.C. Holocaust Museum and killed a guard [Stephen Johns]. He left a manifesto that had the same conspiracy theories, and much of the same language, that [we’ve seen] in other shootings up until this week—this whole idea of the “Great Replacement,” of “white genocide,” the belief that immigrants are going to overwhelm the white race. That, frankly, is a crock of shit. But we see things in the news that seem to kind of stand behind these notions—that border facilities are overwhelmed. Even though it’s not really a threat to anyone’s race. Migration has been happening for centuries, and we’re still here. Nations change over centuries, borders have been different. But that’s all the language white supremacists have been using for decades.

Bayoumy: What about the international connections between these movements?

Picciolini: There was always a connection overseas; these far-right movements shared the same names, the same leadership structure. Certainly the manifestos suggest that they’re playing off of each other; the El Paso shooter referenced support for the New Zealand shooter. It’s no longer a lone-wolf-type situation, which is something we were pushing in the ’80s and ’90s. The ideology then was that there were no leaders, there was no centralized movement, individuals were empowered to act on their own. But the internet has really solidified this movement globally through all these forums online; they’re connected in the virtual world in ways that we often can’t be in the real world. I would say that the threat of a transnational, global white-supremacist terrorist movement is spreading.

Bayoumy: How do they raise money?

Picciolini: Thirty years ago, music was the vehicle for that; you’d have touring white-supremacist metal bands, and groups would raise money off ticket sales. Nowadays, there’s a lot of crowdsourcing. These groups are generating revenue, for instance, through serving ads on some of their propaganda videos. If ads are being served on their videos, chances are good, depending on how many views, they’re making ad revenue based on Google, Facebook, YouTube, serving ads against their content. So, in that sense, de-platforming is good. It does slow them down quite a bit. From my perspective, it also makes people harder to reach. And a lot of times, it also emboldens them to get even more vile and vitriolic about what they’re doing, because they feel kind of like a caged animal. They play the victim narrative.

Bayoumy: What do you make of the president’s tweets Monday morning, in which he tried to connect gun background checks to immigration restrictions? [In later remarks on Monday, the president said: “In one voice, our nation must condemn racism, bigotry, and white supremacy. These sinister ideologies must be defeated.”]

Picciolini: Any tragedy that happens now is being politicized, so it doesn’t surprise me. He’s very good at kicking little buckets of gasoline over sparks of fire that already exist. Racism existed before he became president, and is now again at the fore. When he says those things, he is speaking to his base by not coming out strong for a very specific opinion, as after Charlottesville[, Virginia,] when he said there were good people on both sides. This is a little bit of a dilemma for me, because I also have to believe there are good people on both sides in order to do what I do.

Bayoumy: That’s a good segue to get into your own story. How did you go through this evolution and find yourself on the other side of this? And since then, how have you been able to help people who are still in these groups? Have you noticed any change in the frequency of people who want to leave these movements but don’t know how?

Picciolini: I’ve seen the requests for help skyrocket since 2014. I was recruited when I was 14 years old, in 1987. My parents are Italian immigrants, and when they came over they struggled, had to work constantly, so I didn’t see them very much. But I grew up in a loving family. Still, I went searching for a sense of identity and community and purpose. I was standing in an alley, and a man came and recruited me. I spent eight years as part of America’s first neo-Nazi skinhead group. I didn’t have a foundation for racism; everything I wore as a suit of armor, I ended up believing, and certainly promoting and acting on. But the foundation of racism was never there for me. When I started to meet people that challenged what I believed about them, people that were black, brown, gay—they showed me compassion at a time in my life when I least deserved it. I’d kind of sealed myself off from the real world for eight years, and when I finally started to get peeks at what these people were really like, things changed.

I got out in 1996, and spent three years trying to self-reflect after disengaging, and trying to understand how and why I got there—really struggling with that, until around 2000, when I started … unofficially doing the work that I was doing. I was walking through a mall in Chicago, and still had tattoos on my arms from the old days, and a man walked up to me and said, “White power.” I was out at that point, so I sat and talked to him for a little while. And I don’t know what happened to that guy, but he seemed pretty amenable to the fact that I was leaving. And I hope he got out. But that was kind of my first unofficial intervention, 20 years ago, and I have been doing that ever since.

I don’t necessarily look for people. They find me. I do interviews, I have a TV show, I’ve published a memoir. Anytime people see an interview or a TED Talk, they reach out to me. Because there really is nobody else to turn to. If you have a heroin addiction, there are groups for that. If you’re being abused, there are groups to turn to for that. But unfortunately, if you’re struggling with these ideas of hate, there really is nobody else.

Bayoumy: What does disengagement look like? What’s a typical example of someone reaching out to you saying they want to leave? How do you help them through that?

Picciolini: It’s a whole lot of listening. I listen for what I call potholes: things that happen to us in our journey of life that detour us, things like trauma, abuse, mental illness, poverty, joblessness. Even privilege can be a pothole that detours us. As I listen to those—rather than debate or confront them about their ideology, but creating a rapport with them—I start to fill in those potholes. I will find resources in their community to help them deal with the trauma, with whatever it is that was the motivation for them to go in that direction. Nobody’s born racist; we all found it. Then I leverage the community around them to try to engage them and support them, and try to find ways for them to crawl out of that hole. Typically what I found is, people hate other people because they hate something very specifically about themselves, or are very angry about a situation within their own environment, and that is then projected onto other people. So I’m really trying to build resilience with people.

I’ll also do immersions to try to challenge their ideology—so I’ll introduce them to the people they think they hate once they’re ready, and challenge them in the same way I was challenged. It’s helped me disengage over 300 people over the years.

Bayoumy: What are some of the things that prompt these people to question their beliefs?

Picciolini: Certainly not facts. It’s very emotional. I try to take them through an emotional journey where they come to the conclusion that they’ve changed, and it’s not me telling them that they’ve changed. What I’ve found least effective is me telling them that they’re wrong, or me telling them that they need to think a certain way. Typically these people are pretty idealistic, although they’re lost, typically pretty bruised emotionally, and they have very low self-esteem.

Gilsinan: So it’s not effective to say, “Actually, immigration is often good for the economy.” Then what’s your answer instead?

Picciolini: I’ve always found it very difficult to sway opinion when it’s a group of people. When people are in a group, they tend to not be as vulnerable or as forthcoming. So I think it has to be a personal journey. But there has to be a way to sway a whole group of people, so facts are important—for most people, facts are still important. For folks in these movements, they have their own set of facts. Two plus two equals five, so you can’t argue that two plus two equals four, even though we know that that’s the case. You have to take them through situations where they challenge themselves.

I was working with a 31-year-old man in Buffalo, New York, several years ago, and he had been discharged from the military for an injury that he suffered during basic training and wasn’t able to deploy to Iraq at the time. And he saw all his friends go off to war and fighting for America, and he wasn’t racist going in, but he started going in that direction and became very much of an Islamophobe. When he came home, he started drinking and got really heavily involved in the white-power movement.

He got a copy of my book and he wasn’t very happy with [it], because I had left the movement and he was still very much in it. And after a couple of weeks of talking with him, I finally met him in person and asked him if he’d ever met a Muslim person before, and he said he didn’t want to; he thought that they were evil, the enemy, animals, whatever, insert word here. And when I flew out I had arranged, unbeknownst to him, a meeting with an imam at a local mosque. When I convinced him to go, we spoke with the imam, and then two hours later, it was as if these men had known each other their whole lives. The guy who I was working with was a Christian, and he learned that Jesus was part of the Koran, and Muslims revered him as a prophet—all these things that he never knew. They were both Chuck Norris fans; they bonded over that. We were crying at the end, and hugging.

And now they eat falafel together every chance they get.

But it’s not an easy process; it’s a very, very long process. If you think about quitting smoking, or drinking, or anything like that. For me, from the time I was 14 years old till I was 23, those were kind of the adult developmental years, so there were a lot of things that I had to unlearn.

Gilsinan: So what can the U.S. do on the policy front? What has your experience been like trying to work with the government on these issues? Are we equipped to deal with this?

Picciolini: I think we can be equipped. There’s just no will to build something about domestic extremism. We don’t currently have any hate-crime laws that apply to online activity, but photoshopping someone’s face onto an Auschwitz prisoner on Twitter isn’t so different from spray-painting a swastika in a synagogue. I think we need to start asking ourselves what kind of policies need to be in place, not to limit speech, but to protect people from it. I don’t know what the answer is there.

Gilsinan: What’s next?

Picciolini: I really think we need to get away from using the term lone wolves, because while they are single actors, they are part of a larger ecosystem. I just think it’s going to get worse before it gets better. They’re all trying to outdo each other, not just the last person, but Timothy McVeigh. Terrorists will always find another way to do it. I have to ask myself, Do we have white-nationalist airline pilots? There have to be. I knew people in powerful positions, in politics, in law enforcement, who were secretly white nationalists. I think we’d be stupid and selfish to think that we don’t have those in the truck-driving industry.

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intergalacticrp · 6 years

Photo

NAME :// QROW BRANWEN ORIGIN :// RWBY AGE :// FORTY-FOUR JOB :// PROFESSOR OF CRIMINAL JUSTICE FC :// JOHN CHO

I thought I saw the devil, this morning, looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning to help me see myself clearer I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed, I’ll be a better man today

BIOGRAPHY ://

Booze laced veins and memories better left forgotten, like an old dog he nurses his wounds. Puddles never form in the bags under his eyes, though this is only because he refuses to think back. Refuses to remember. He has long given up thinking that he can change the past and is too far gone to think that he can change the future. Misfortune granted to anything that he dared to touch, dared to hold. Tragedy and hardship plagued the man who only ever wanted to help.

Well. that’s not completely true. At a young age, he was sent hand in hand with his sister to find answers to questions that weren’t his to ask, enemy territory too well known for someone who was considered by many to still be a child. Qrow hardened himself in order not to falter. But it was here that he found his friends, that he found his team. Summer, Taiyang, Qrow and Raven, training side by side. As the days went on, it started to feel less and less like enemy territory and more and more like home.

Graduation came and devastation reigned; not the next day the four of them journeying out into the world to fight together as one. That was their place, as it always had been, the field proving to be no tougher than what Raven and Qrow had faced in the past. Grimm were plentiful, but they kept the borders safe, and they had each other’s backs. Everything was going to plan, the only hiccup being that Raven wanted to return to their clan. Qrow did not share this sentiment. Weekly hushed debates transpired, Qrow almost always convincing his sister that they weren’t done with their mission yet.

They both knew that was a lie. Their mission had ended the moment that graduation passed, but months had come and gone since that date. More continued to pass and Raven’s stomach started to round, their temporary situation becoming something more permanent. Qrow was happy here and when Yang’s cry first pierced the air, Qrow knew that he would do anything in his power to protect her. With that being said, he also knew the adversity that followed him and his name, so he kept his space as the caring but aloof uncle.

If only he had been able to maintain that platonic level of relationship with everyone that was important to him.

Summer. She was warm like a mid July breeze, smile infectious and a love for cookies and spring that could be rivaled by no other. She spoke to him in rivers and mountains, promised of a future and he gave everything to her. His heart. His soul. A child. Yang would always hold a special place in his heart, but everything changed when Ruby came to him. Qrow never thought that he would be lucky enough to have something so beautiful, so pure. A family to call his own.

The universe stuck him with the raw deal, and Qrow knew that his relation with the child was going to get her killed it he wasn’t careful. By the gods, when he held her… It was with careful consideration that he passed on the role of fathership to Taiyang, something that he has simultaneously blessed and never forgiven himself for. The girl is better of in his care, that is obvious to Qrow, and Ruby and Yang would always have one another, it gave Ruby something that he would never be able to give her.

Stability.

No matter how long he stayed in one place, there was always the itch. The one that told him that he was better off in the field, that he was better of being useful somewhere than to try to give himself a small square to piss in. So he did what he had to do.

The only saving grace was that the little bundle of joy, his Ruby, his precious gem, took Summer’s last name. It was almost like she had no father at all. Only it wasn’t like that at all because Tai wasn’t going to let a girl go through life without a father.

The days became shorter in the absence of Summer, though he did still come to visit the girls as an uncle figure, he could never look at the woman that he loved the same way again. Not without fear of being figured out by the daughter that so lovingly called him uncle.

When Raven left, he thought that was going to be the end of the friendships that he had worked so long to uphold. He never thought that she would just abandon them like that, abandon Qrow, abandon Yang. No one had seen her leave that day, but Qrow was almost positive as to where she went. He was never going to go after her. Too proud, too tired and more than that, he was angry. It poured into him like a lava that scorched everything that it touched, how dare she. She had everything that he had wanted, a family that she could call her own, but she had felt the same itch that he had and how angry could he really be?

Apparently the answer to that question was irate.

He was there the day that it happened. The day that it all fell apart. It would have been different if Raven had been there, she would have known what to do, she would have at least had his back. Had their back. Had her back. Summer.

Color left the world the day that she was ripped from it, the man turning black and white against the pale background of never ending grief. How was he supposed to tell a six year old that her mother was never coming home? He wouldn’t. That’s just it, isn’t it? He was the loving uncle that never had a place within the home of a girl that shared his blood. If anything this event, no matter how morbid, only solidified his stance.

He faded. Back into the battlefield that took his love from him, back into the distance as the uncle who always happened to show up drunk. He was gone more often than he wasn’t, always around the corner, just close enough to watch but far enough away to never be caught. Though the bottom of a liqour bottle, he watched her grow, watched her match pace with Yang, watched her surpass.

When she came of the proper age, he took her under his wing and began the training. It wasn’t what Summer would have wanted, or maybe it was, they had never discussed it in any length because they were supposed to have more time togehter.

That’s what it always comes back to, isn’t it? A lack of time. A lack of future that he had been promised so many years ago.

Ruby fought like her mother, strong and unbiased in her swings and Qrow taught her to move like a huntress. To charge and take action, even though she smiled like a child, she knew what had to be done and that was what mattered.

At the end of the day.

More than anything.

Ruby had the same love of cookies that her mother had.

And that broke his heart.

When the sisters told Taiyang that they to attend schooling on an asteroid that was too far way, Taiyang had called upon Qrow. He told her of the girls’ plan and more than that told him that he had granted them permission. It was hard for Qrow to accept, that they wouldn’t always be just around the corner. That Ruby wouldn’t be joining them on their hunts anymore, that it would be back to the two remaining members of their team. Not that he did not have a love for Taiyang, he only wanted that love to extend to both his brother in arms and his dau-… niece.

It took a few years for Qrow to really decide what he was going to do. He was highly skilled in a lot of things, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to just chose at random. All he knew was that he wanted to follow them, to look after them, as he had promised all those years ago.

So when a teaching position became available at the university on the asteroid, Qrow didn’t let himself have a choice in the matter. He packed his bags and called the man that he spent so many years with fighting side by side. Tai gave him his blessing, and that was it.

Qrow joined them on the asteroid, and gave himself to the stars.

AESTHETIC ://

Dark ravens against white snow. Empty liquor bottle clinking together in a trash bag. Drink it straight or don’t drink it at all. here for a good time not a long time. Drinking to forget or drinking to remember? Drinks. Vodka. The death of innocence in a man that never lets childish antics go. Heart break. Heart ache.

MISC ://

Years living among people that could not be trusted, Qrow learned to carry a weapon when he was young. Though he did not bring his scythe with him to the asteroid, he does have quite a collection in his spare room. At any moment, he more than likely has at least two weapons on him, his main and then a backup.

Qrow likes to think of himself as a functioning alcoholic. That’s not exactly accurate on some days, but it’s still how he likes to consider himself.

Family has always been important to Qrow, but the definition has changed over the years as to what family really means. Tai is his family. Summer was his family. Two girls who bare too much resemblance are his family. He doesn’t think much of his clan now that he has seen what the world has to offer him.

It would be easy to say that Qrow unlucky. More than that, it’s almost as if he cursed. Because of this, forming bonds with him is extremely hard. He doesn’t want to pull anyone else onto a sinking ship, because it is always those around him that get hurt.

CONNECTION ://

Taiyang Xiao Long : Best friend. A rock in the most dangerous of storms.

Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long : His nieces. He loves them equally.

Raven Branwen : Sister. Distant at best, hostile at worst.

James Ironwood : Prick.

Winter Schnee : Bitch.

AVAILABILITY :// OPEN || TAKEN BY EASTON

#qrow branwen #rwby rp #anime rp #new rp #open rp #active rp #skeleton rp #disney rp #lsrp #male #John Cho #rwby #taken #tm

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