#before august end

[verieas]

haven’t posted art in a bit so please take this wip 🙏🏼

[kyurochurro]

they did the monster mash!! 😳 🎃it was a graveyard smash!! 🦇👻

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

Yeehawgust 4 — Desert Rains

[gayestcowboy]

picrew progress: all face shapes and skin tones are done. mouth, nose, ears, eyebrows are lined. no hair yet, bald picrew only right now

[armoricaroyalty]

Film Grammar for Simmers

What is film grammar?

"Film grammar" refers the unstated "rules" of editing used in movies and TV. Different types of shots have different associations and are used by editors to convey different types of information to the audience. Many of these principles were first described in the early 20th century by Soviet directors, but they're used consistently across genre, medium, and even language: Bollywood musicals, English period dramas, Korean horror movies, and American action blockbusters all use many of the same techniques.

Because these rules are so universal, virtually everyone has some internalized understanding of them. Even if they can’t name the different types of shots or explain how editors use images to construct meaning, the average person can tell when the “rules” are being broken. If you’ve ever thought a movie or episode of TV was confusing without being able to say why, there’s a good chance that there was something off with the editing.

Learning and applying the basics of film grammar can give your story a slicker and more-polished feel, without having to download shaders or spend hours in photoshop. It also has the bonus of enhancing readability by allowing your audience to use their knowledge of film and TV to understand what's happening in your story. You can use it to call attention to significant plot details and avoid introducing confusion through unclear visual language.

Best of all, it doesn't cost a dime.

The basics: types of shots

Shots are the basic building block of film. In Sims storytelling, a single shot is analogous to a single screenshot. In film, different types of shots are distinguished by the position of the camera relative to the subject. There are three big categories of shots, with some variation: long shots (LS), medium shots (MS), and close-ups (CU). This diagram, created by Daniel Chandler and hosted on visual-memory.co.uk illustrates the difference:

Source: The 'Grammar' of Television and Film, Daniel Chandler, visual-memory.co.uk. Link.

In film, scenes typically progress through the different types of shots in sequence: long shot, medium shot, close-up. When a new scene begins and the characters arrive in a new location, we typically begin with a wide establishing shot of the building’s exterior to show the audience where the scene will be taking place. Next comes a long shot of an interior space, which tells the where the characters are positioned relative to one another. The next shot is a medium shot of the characters conversing, and then finally, a close-up as the conversation reaches its emotional or informational climax. Insert shots are used judiciously throughout to establish themes or offer visual exposition.

Here's another visual guide to the different types of shots, illustrated with stills from Disney animated films.

This guide is almost 2,000 words long! To save your dash, I've put the meat of it under the cut.

Long shot and extreme long shots

A long shot (sometimes also called a wide shot) is one where the entire subject (usually a building, person, or group of people) is visible within the frame. The camera is positioned far away from the subject, prioritizing the details of the background over the details of the subject.

One of the most common uses of long shots and extreme long shots are establishing shots. An establishing shot is the first shot in a scene, and it sets the tone for the scene and is intended to give the viewer the information they’ll need to follow the scene: where a scene is taking place, who is in the scene, and where they are positioned in relation to one another. Without an establishing shot, a scene can feel ungrounded or “floaty.” Readers will have a harder time understanding what’s happening in the scene because on some level, they’ll be trying to puzzle out the answers to the who and where questions, distracting them from the most important questions: what is happening and why?

(I actually like to start my scenes with two establishing shots: an environmental shot focusing on the scenery, and then a second shot that establishes the characters and their position within the space.)

Long shots and extreme long shots have other uses, as well. Because the subject is small relative to their surroundings, they have an impersonal effect which can be used for comedy or tragedy.

In Fargo (1996) uses an extreme long shot to visually illustrate the main character’s sense of defeat after failing to secure funding for a business deal.The shot begins with a car in an empty parking lot, and then we see the protagonist make his way up from the bottom of the frame. He is alone in the shot, he is small, and the camera is positioned above him, looking down from a god-like perspective. All of these factors work together to convey his emotional state: he’s small, he’s alone, and in this moment, we are literally looking down on him. This shot effectively conveys how powerless he feels without any dialogue or even showing his face.

The same impersonal effect can also be used for comic purposes. If a character says something stupid or fails to impress other characters, cutting directly from a close-up to a long shot has a visual effect akin to chirping crickets. In this instance, a long shot serves as a visual “wait, what?” and invites the audience to laugh at the character rather than with them.

Medium Shots

Medium shots are “neutral” in filmmaking. Long shots and close-ups convey special meaning in their choice to focus on either the subject or the background, but a medium shot is balanced, giving equal focus to the character and their surroundings. In a medium shot, the character takes up 50% of the frame. They’re typically depicted from the waist-up and the audience can see both their face and hands, allowing the audience to see the character's facial expression and read their body-language, both important for interpreting meaning.

In most movies and TV shows, medium shots are the bread and butter of dialogue-heavy scenes, with close-ups, long shots, and inserts used for punctuation and emphasis. If you’re closely following the conventions of filmmaking, most of your dialogue scenes will be medium shots following the convention of shot-reverse shot:

To keep long conversations from feeling too visually monotonous, consider staging the scene as a walk-and-talk. Having two characters move through a space can add a lot of dynamism and visual interest to a scene that might otherwise feel boring or stiff.

Close Ups

Close-ups are close shots of a character’s face. The camera is positioned relatively near to the subject, showing just their head and shoulders. In a close-up, we don’t see any details of the background or the expressions of other characters.

In film, close-ups are used for emphasis. If a character is experiencing a strong emotion or delivering an important line of dialogue, a close-up underscores the importance of the moment by inviting the audience to focus only on the character and their emotion.

Close-ups don’t necessarily need to focus on the speaker. If the important thing about a line of dialogue is another character’s reaction to it, a close-up of the reaction is more effective than a close-up of the delivery.

One of the most iconic shots in Parasite (2019) is of the protagonist driving his employer around while she sits in the backseat, speaking on the phone. Even though she’s the one speaking, the details of her conversation matter less than the protagonist’s reaction to it. While she chatters obliviously in the background, we focus on the protagonist’s disgruntled, resentful response to her thoughtless words and behavior.

In my opinion, Simblr really overuses close-ups in dialogue. A lot of conversation scenes are framed entirely in close-ups, which has the same effect of highlighting an entire page in a textbook. The reader can’t actually tell what information is important, because the visuals are screaming that everything is important. Overusing close-ups also cuts the viewer off from the character’s body language and prevents them from learning anything about the character via their surroundings.

For example, a scene set in someone’s bedroom is a great opportunity for some subtle characterization—is it tidy or messy? what kind of decor have they chosen? do they have a gaming computer, a guitar, an overflowing bookshelf?—but if the author chooses to use only close-ups, we lose out on a chance to get to know the character via indirect means.

Inserts

An insert shot is when a shot of something other than a character’s face is inserted into a scene. Often, inserts are close-ups of a character’s hands or an object in the background. Insert shots can also be used to show us what a character is looking at or focusing on.

In rom-com The Prince & Me (2004) (see? I don’t just watch crime dramas…) the male lead is in an important meeting. We see him pick up a pen, look down at the papers in front of him, and apparently begin taking notes, but then we cut to an insert shot of his information packet. He’s doodling pictures of sports cars and is entirely disengaged from the conversation. Every other shot in the scene is an establishing shot or a medium shot or a close-up of someone speaking, but this insert gives us insight into the lead’s state of mind: he doesn’t want to be there and he isn’t paying attention.

Insert shots are, in my opinion, also used ineffectively on Simblr. A good insert gives us extra insight into what a character is thinking or focusing on, but a poorly-used insert feels…unfocused. A good insert might focus on pill bottles on a character’s desk to suggest a chemical dependency, on a family picture to suggest duty and loyalty, on a clock to suggest a time constraint, on a pile of dirty laundry or unanswered letters to suggest a character is struggling to keep up with their responsibilities. An ineffective insert shot might focus on the flowers in the background because they’re pretty, on a character’s hands because it seems artsy, on the place settings on a dining table because you spent forever placing each one individually and you’ll be damned if they don’t make it into the scene. These things might be lovely and they might break up a monotonous conversation and they might represent a lot of time and effort, but if they don’t contribute any meaning to a scene, consider cutting or repurposing them.

I want to emphasize: insert shots aren’t bad, but they should be carefully chosen to ensure they’re enhancing the meaning of the scene. Haphazard insert shots are distracting and can interfere with your reader’s ability to understand what is happening and why.

Putting it all together

One of the most basic principles of film theory is the Kuleshov effect, the idea that meaning in film comes from the interaction of two shots in sequence, and not from any single shot by itself. In the prototypical example, cutting from a close-up of a person’s neutral expression to a bowl of soup, children playing, or soldiers in a field suggests hunger, worry, or fear, respectively.

The Kuleshov effect is the essence of visual storytelling in a medium like Simblr. You can elevate your storytelling by thinking not only about each individual shot, but about the way they’ll interact and flow into one another.

Mastering the basics of film grammar is a great (free!) way to take your storytelling to the next level. To learn more, you can find tons of guides and explainers about film grammar for free online, and your local library doubtless has books that explain the same principles and offers additional analysis.

Happy simming!

[tjs-stuffs]

finally started playing stardew valley. i understand now

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Who wants to have a Day out with Thomas?

Just wanted to draw something based on the Day out with Thomas event that I went to last month! It was a fun time and I got a special little Wooden Railway Toy exclusive to the event:

I love that they decorated his livery with bubbles. Apparently he wanted to get a wash but was in such a rush that he left the bubbles? Either way, it's very adorable!

[gfbs-the-decaying]

Immunity- 19 | Page 27

PREVIOUS | NEXT | FIRST

@crispyloafcombo - shading help

[kiwisoap]

Been doing more weaving!!!! Everything above the first yellow stripe was done in a single sitting LMAO. I wish I'd put a couple burgundy stripes a little earlier in the weave to kinda balance the colors but oh well!

[zeebreezin]

Before leaving for the Neath, to find his daughter’s killer, August Shaw told only one person: his wife. His letter was poorly worded, rambling, and utterly incoherent. Before leaving to complete his Ambition, heading into Parabola on a quest he does not think he will return from, Shaw did not want to make the same mistake. The following messages were addressed to (In order): @neathyingenue ‘s Silvia Salcedo, @gmalaart ‘s Emon Cavendish, @elleryhart ‘s Ellery , @viric-dreams ‘s Robin Jones, @letheology ‘s Mina Azoulai, @capn-twitchery ‘s Twitch, and @t6fs, here addressed as Logan.

[You haven’t heard from Shaw in several days, any mail you sent has gone unanswered. A letter arrives out of nowhere, written in his curling handwriting. The script is messy, blotted with ink and wine.] “Dear Silvia, I apologise for the state of myself as I write this, though you must understand that this message is of the utmost importance. The time for half truths and polite obfuscation is past, between us. I will not insult you by dancing around the truth. When I first came to London, I came with only one purpose: to avenge the death of my daughter, Lenore, and to meet my own end in the process. Since then, well. I’ve found something quite worth remaining for. I set off now to end what I have started, and I may not return. For that I am so, so sorry. You have become… so much to me, Silvia. In all your endeavours, I wish you the best. Your talent and passion for what is right has inspired me, and I’m sure you have inspired many. I am proud to consider you family, a bond not forged by blood but by ink and will. I… I hope you will be well. No matter what happens. If I do not return, know that I am deeply proud of you. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The letter does not arrive on paper. It is scrawled across the cosmogone sky, familiar handwriting curling across the surface of parabola like a rock skipping across the surface of a lake.] “My Dearest Emon, it rends my heart to know that I cannot send you this letter. I dare not post it, knowing the reflection that takes your place.” [A few words are heavily scratched out.] “I have no idea if I will see you again, you as I know you, vibrant and sharp and maddeningly brilliant. I wish, more than anything, you were at my side. If I return from the journey I now set out to take, know that I will find you. My window of opportunity is brief, and I cannot linger, though I know how selfish it must seem. I set off now to defeat the ghosts that haunt me, to lay my daughter to rest. When I began, I thought that this would be my undoing, a death I welcomed. Now, though. I must succeed. I will find you again, Emon. These words will reach you - they must. I have to return. Wherever you may be, know that… I will find you, my love. Yours, Always, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A stained letter is delivered to you by an anonymous urchin. It’s dated to a few days after you left on your trip… the handwriting is familiar.] “Dear Ellery Hart, I hope this letter reaches you well. I’ve scheduled it to be delivered as soon as you return, as its contents are quite important to me. Once you receive this, I will have already departed on a journey. I dare not tell you where I go, or why, but know that-” [A section of text is scratched out.] “I may not return. In such a case, I… Where do I begin? You’ve come so far in the time I’ve known you, Ellery. In all senses, I’m deeply proud of the man you’ve grown into. Wherever your path takes you after this hunt, I know you will do well. If this is goodbye, then know that I count you both amongst my finest pupils, and amongst my dearest friends. Hunt well, Ellery. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The dead drop has remained quiet for a while now. The next missive you receive from the Black Rook isn’t encoded, or tucked away - it’s left in your mailbox, like any other letter.] “Dear Jones, I apologise for the unorthodox - or perhaps more accurately, deeply orthodox - method of communication. This message has nothing to do with our work, though I understand if you dispose of it as if it was. Simply put, I am… leaving London, for a time. This journey is not one I had expected to return from for a long time, but I know that I will be fighting to return to the city now. Should all go wrong, well, I know that we have not always seen eye to eye. I know that I may never truly win back your trust, something that would be well within your rights. But I could not leave in good conscience without saying goodbye. The letters we used to send, as Suzette and Jacques, they provided me a great deal of light during my darkest days. After everything I am, in truth, not sure what to call us. But whatever you are to me, Robin Jones, I hope I get to see you again, once all this is over. Play Well, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw hasn’t been at the university for a while, now. A letter is slipped into your desk when you return to Benthic, tucked neatly into the top drawer. No cipher, plain script - this isn’t a game.] “Dear Mina, I hope the Khante has been treating you well. I’m unsure as to when you’ll be back, and a part of me hopes that this letter will be quickly corrected by my presence at your door, but nevertheless. I’m setting off on a mission, you could say, one of great personal significance. One I am unsure if I will return from. In the case I… do not return, I leave my network to you, Mina. Take this letter to Demirkan, he will know what to do. …We can do great things with this Game we play. We have done great things. I trust you to carry on that, if I cannot. You have been a great friend to me, and a most trusted confidant. I can only hope that I do not betray that trust now. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A letter from your former protege arrives, carried by bat. It’s uncommon enough that he’s writing to you, but the contents of the letter are stranger still.] “Dear Captain Lazaret, I must apologise for the suddenness of this letter. I hope it finds you well, and in a space where you can read it without fearing immediate retribution. Though I know we only occasionally brush paths these days, it seemed unwise to not inform you of my current state of affairs. Simply put, Captain, I’m going to be away from London for some time, and I am unsure if I will ever see home waters again. For all my gripes and bristles (and indeed, all the years I fear you’ve taken off my life) I could not have become the man I am today without your guidance. I know I may have seemed ungrateful, but… well, thank you for all you taught me. And for all the times we have spent together, many of which were at the worst lows of my time down below. You are vexing, and caustic, and I dare say my days in London would be a great deal duller without knowing you. Let none of my sarcasm lead to you forgetting this fact, Captain - as you are indeed someone I owe a great deal of happiness to. I hope to see you again. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw’s not home, when you return to London, but tonight, six apocyan eyes beckon you to the window. Laying out is a phonograph, one Nigel plays, though there’s no music recorded - just Shaw’s voice, thick with emotion.] “Logan, I- /ˈdæmɪt/, I hope this thing is working right. I hope you’re well? The Tomb Colonies, can be quite draining, I know. I… I’ve left this for you, as I didn’t quite trust my No`çuk" script, and… well, this is quite serious.” [A pause. The sound of drumming fingers on the table.] “This is harder to say than I thought, I, ah…” [A deep, shaky breath.] “The reason I first came to London was not a good one. My daughter had been- she had been taken from me. I came here for revenge, to find the one who’d… and, in all honesty, to lose myself in the process. Now, I’ve left to finish what I’ve started. If I do not return, I… Logan, you’ve become so dear to me. The kindness you’ve shown me, all of it… it is something I will never forget. You are impossible, magnificent… and I love you. Terribly so. What else is there to say?” [A laugh, clearly through tears.] “I will find you, if I make it back. I swear. Xïmo`tu`no` szokh, Muszhka`. If I can’t, I… no. I will. I love you, Logan.” [The recording ends there. Nigel offers it to you.]

- x - x -

[fantasykiri5]

Sorry but I’m just not going to pay attention to some of the bad kids’ canon heights. Some of them are listed as too damn tall (and Gorgug has 100 percent grown since freshman year) so have 80 million headcanons

Like you’re telling me Riz is supposed to be 4’4”?? That’s a tall ass goblin! That’s too big to be reasonably carted around on the others’ shoulders, no no, I’m making the executive decision to draw him as 3’9” - 3’11” from now on and you can’t stop me. I’d give him another inch or two by college and that’s it.

Kristen being 5’11”? NAH She’s 5’6”. BIG 5’6” energy right there.

Adaine and Fig didn’t have their heights listed on the wiki but I’m thinking Adaine is 5’10” and Fig is 5’4”. Or Fig is also 5’10” ish and takes after Gorthalax idk but I’m leaning towards short Fig.

Fabian can actually stay same as canon at 6’1”. Maybe grow an inch or two since freshman year but honestly his still works. He’s a year older than the others, prolly grew a little earlier and plateaued early-mid sophomore year, half-elf youth look and all that. I think he lied in introductions freshman year and was about 5’11” - 6’0” and grew over the year before the others could notice the discrepancy.

And Gorgug. Gorgug. You’re telling me he reached 6’4” in freshman year and didn’t keep growing?? Mother fucker he has to have hit at LEAST one growth spurt since, puberty does not hit that early in boys that he was done growing at 14/15. I’m thinking 6’8” or so by Junior Year so far, maybe another couple inches before graduating, maybe not.

[g0nefischin]

Yeehawgust 2024

Day 31 - Cowboys Never Die

Let us erase this pointless world, and move on to the next.

[logan-lieutenant]

shoutout to @escapentropy for this post and the brainrot rpf spiral i went into immediately after <3

anyway here is the fic about logan’s appearance on an instagram story and how alex may or may not have felt about it

The spaces between the stars

George knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the story.

For one thing, it was two in the morning. Not an abysmal time for anyone to be on social media, just abysmal for Alex. George still thinks it’s hilarious that Alex has screen time limits on his phone like an internet-addicted teenager, but he’s listened to enough lectures about the detriments of blue light and sleep cycles to bring it up anymore. And anyway, it’s not like Alex is any more responsive during the day. Over a decade into their friendship, and Alex is one of the worst texters George has ever met. If Alex isn’t texting back at 2 am, he definitely isn’t engaging in the cesspool of the internet. That had been a red flag in and of itself.

The story itself had been an even bigger hint: camera pointed straight up, showing a slightly blurry close-up of the night sky. If it was a constellation, George hadn’t known it; there was no tag, no caption, nothing. There also hadn’t been a hint of a horizon line or any indication of where the picture had been taken, but George hadn’t needed one.

He calls Alex a few minutes after he’d gotten the notification, and of course Alex picks up immediately.

“Get off the roof,” George says in lieu of a greeting.

Alex doesn’t say anything for a bit, leaving an awkward, staticky murmur on the other end of the line. Finally, he protests sheepishly, “I’m not on the roof.”

“You are,” George insists. “Don’t fuck with me. You’re at that little deck with the telescope and plants that no one’s watered in a month, and you’re not supposed to be there.”

Alex makes a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Would you believe me if I told you I finally paid for roof access?”

“No.”

Alex laughs again, but his voice sounded jagged and painful, rough around the edges.

“Come on,” George prompts. “You hate breaking rules. You only go up there when you’re stressed about something.”

“That’s…” Alex tries to begin, then trails off.

“Did you only post that star story cause you knew I would see it?”

The silence is enough of an answer.

George sighs. “Get off the roof. I’m coming over.”

“Really?” Alex’s voice is timid, almost a whisper. He sounds weak, like all the wind has been knocked out of him and he hasn’t had time to recover.

It hurts George just to listen to. “Yes, really. Someone needs to make sure you don’t engage in more criminal activity.”

“Fine, I’ll get off the roof!”

When Alex opens the door, he looks exactly how he’d sounded on the phone.

“Mate, you look terrible,” George informs him.

Alex rolls his eyes, then steps aside to let George in. “Thanks. Your commentary is always appreciated.”

George ignores the back talk. “Have you slept at all?”

Alex knots his fingers in his hair and pulls distractedly. He shrugs his shoulders, looking like he’s trying to curl into himself. “It’s not that late.”

“It’s late for you.” George steps forward and takes Alex by the shoulders, forcing him to stay still. “Alex.”

Alex struggles to meet his gaze. There are shadows under his eyes. Even under George’s hands he’s trying to fidget, shifting his weight, hands twitching at his sides.

“I didn’t come here to listen to you lie to me. You basically sent up the bat signal.”

That gets a laugh, Alex playfully trying to shrug George away. “Right. I forgot. You’re the British Batman. Who gets summoned by… stars.”

“You’re making me sound so poetic.” George claps him on the shoulder and pushes him gently in the general direction of the couch. “Sit down. I’m making us tea, and then you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Is that an order?”

George looks over his shoulder at Alex’s smirk. “You know what? For old time’s sake, yes.” He finds a small stuffed cat toy on the counter and throws it at him.

When George brings in the tea, Alex is already surrounded by cats.

George laughs at the sight, Alex leaned back into the couch with two cats fighting for space on his lap and another draped lazily in some anatomically incorrect position over the armrest. “They gonna make room for me?” he asks, holding out one of the mugs.

Alex sits up straighter to take it, and one of the cats flicks its ears haughtily and strolls across the room.

“Your presence offends her,” Alex explains. “So yes.”

“I’m heartbroken.” A friendlier cat nuzzles George’s hand; he scratches it behind the ears. “You gonna tell me why you went up there?”

Alex looks away from him, slowly chewing his lower lip. He stares at the wall as if the picturue frames will tell him what to say. George waits patiently.

“Well, I should definitely stop,” Alex says at last, trying to laugh at himself. It falls flat quickly and he gives up. “I got in trouble for it, once, a few years ago. I think it belongs to only the top floor, not the whole building…” He boops one cat on the tip of the nose and it wrinkles up its face, swiping a paw over its eyes. He smiles at it. “Anyway, it’s one of the highest places in Monaco. You can see the stars better there than anywhere else– that I’ve found, at least… I don’t know, it just, it feels really peaceful up there. It helps me think clearly.”

George knows he’s not being given the whole story; Alex knows it too. George sips at his tea and says nothing. Alex doesn’t like silence; the longer George stays quiet, the more Alex will say just to fill the void. It’s not a very nice tactic, but letting Alex deflect and ramble and run away from his feelings isn’t helpful either.

Alex drinks his tea, pulling his sleeves over his hands and holding the mug close to his chest. “And I’ve got good memories, too… not like, that roof in particular– just, stars in general, I guess. That sounds stupid. Everyone has–”

“What’s the memory?” George asks softly.

Alex looks over at him then. He doesn’t say it out loud, but the gratitude is plain on his face, the shine in his eyes. Then he casts his eyes back down to the cats. “Last Christmas,” he begins “they did this video thing with me and Logan, just a bunch of questions, you know…” He waves a hand vaguely. “This interview thing. It was so silly, I don’t even remember a whole lot of it. But the thing way, the setup they chose was like this tiny inn in the middle of nowhere– I mean nowhere. And by the time we were done shooting it was night, because of course it was, and I remember we stepped out and there were just so many stars.”

Alex tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling, like if he reaches far enough into the memory he can bring the stars back with him. He takes a deep breath. “Y’know. Because there was less light pollution…”

“Yeah, so much gets washed out in the city,” George offers.

Alex nods. “Exactly. And I’ve been in like, less bright areas before, it had just been a while since I’d been able to see that many. And I remember I looked over at Logan cause I was gonna say something, like ‘Holy shit, it looks like we’re in space’… and he was just.” Alex stops, swallows heavily. He looks back into his tea, breathes out, watches the surface ripple. Then he leans over and places the tea, barely touched, on a side table. He rubs at his eyes and tries to pass it off as scratching an itch; George doesn’t call him out.

“He was just looking up at the sky,” Alex continues, voice softening with nostalgia, “and… and there was this expression on his face like I’d never seen before. He just looked so, like… fascinated. Enchanted.” He laughs a little, eyes far-away, and tucks his feet under him. One of his cats meows frustratedly at the change of position before settling down again. “I mean, he looked like a little kid. Like he’d never seen a night sky before, just smiling up at it… And I think I probably teased him in the moment. ‘Do they not have stars in America’, or… something.”

George feels a cat pawing at his shins and sits back. The cat jumps into his lap and turns to stare attentively at Alex. Even the animals are drawn in by the story, the way the emotions in Alex’s voice have started to fill the room like morning fog.

“But I kind of wish I hadn’t,” Alex adds, shuddering, “because I thought back after and I realized I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen him that happy.” His hand, in the middle of stroking a cat, falls limply to his side. “Relaxed. Not for the cameras, not playing anything off. There was just this moment where he was genuinely just happy about something. And I didn’t figure this out until later, but… I think it hit me so hard because I realized I hadn’t thought I was ever gonna see him like that again. Like, the season had been so tough for us, and especially toward the end it was really dragging him down, and I just sort of expected that. The way he used to look at everything like, no light in his eyes. Gone.”

George says quietly, “He never looked at you like that.”

Alex shoots his gaze over, focus sharpening to a razor-point. “Don’t,” he chokes out in a wavering, inflamed voice. “I’ve told you. You can’t make me… think like that.”

George puts down his tea so he can shift closer to Alex. “Mate, I’m just saying the facts. We’re in the same paddock. I know you know him better, but the rest of us aren’t blind. This season, when you two are together… he looks at you like–”

Alex puts his hand up.

George sits back, spreading his palms. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Too far?”

“Sorry.” Alex sniffles, then tries to hide it with a cough. “It’s just–” He nudges a cat off his lap so he can pull his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through a couple photos until he pauses on a screenshot, then reaches out and shows it to George. “Have you seen this?”

George looks at the picture. “Not the original. I’ve seen it reposted, though.”

It’s the last thing Logan’s posted on his story, shared from someone named Zack Justice (George doesn’t know if he’s supposed to recognize that name) and it’s a picture of Logan. Playing golf.

The sun is shining. The sky is a perfect, picturesque blue. The green stretches on to the horizon, unbroken color that contrasts elegantly with the sky above. The horizon line is right at the halfway point of the image. It couldn’t be more aesthetic.

Logan isn’t too close to the camera, but he’s still recognizable. He’s also not wearing blue.

Alex takes back the phone but doesn’t turn it off. He stares at the photo, glassy-eyed, blue light throwing stark shadows across his face. His expression is lethargic, unreadable, but George has known Alex long enough to tell when he’s spiraling into his own thoughts.

Carefully, he takes the phone form Alex’s hand and flips it face-down onto the couch. An additional cat, seemingly from nowhere, plops onto the couch and sits between them, covering the phone with its tail.

Alex smiles, gentle and hurt. “Point taken.” He looks at his lap and twists his fingers together until another cat head-butts his hands. “This was the first sign of, like, anything. Sign of life, I guess. Since the… since Tuesday.”

“You haven’t talked since then?”

Alex shakes his head, and the motion is abrupt, almost violent. “Every message I send turns green, I… I think he blocked me.” His voice is almost completely shattered, words thick and effortful.

George doesn’t say anything. He just reaches over and rests his hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex finally loooks back at him and clasps George’s hand between both of his own.

“You miss him,” George murmurs.

Whatever chains Alex had been wrapping around himself snap and the tears fall like a storm. Dark and churning and unforgiving. He’s silent when he cries, teeth gritted, shoulders shaking.

George squeezes his hand, and Alex squeezes back. He’s clutching hard enough to hurt, but George doesn’t pull away.

Alex takes a deep breath and coughs on the exhale. He speaks like his voice cuts his throat on the way out. “He’s happier now, I think… I mean, he got away from it all. He got out.”

“It wasn’t you he was trying to get away from,” George insists fiercely. “He needs space.”

“Fucking hell, I know he needs space,” Alex spits out, voice rising. George tugs on his hands a little, shaking him, and Alex forces himself to take a deep breath. “But I need him.”

George stays very still.

He has to choose his next words carefully. He’s known about Alex’s feelings for months, had his suspicions long before that. He’s the only one who does, because Alex wouldn’t trust anyone else with the secret. He’d told George that, point-blank. And George had kept his word, obviously.

He’d worried for Alex, though. Has been whole time. Between Williams and Logan there was a ticking time bomb, and if George could’ve saved Alex from the shrapnel he would have. But hopes that it was just a phase, that it was just temporary infatuation that would fade over time, were dashed quickly. Whatever Alex felt was serious, and it was going to get him seriously hurt.

After the one confession they had barely spoken about it– not in explicit terms, anyway. As the 2024 season staggered on, their conversations started edging closer to the subject. Any mention of Logan was entangled with references and hints and what had practically become a code between them, all so Alex didn’t have to look the truth in the face. George wished it wasn’t happening; he wished his friend wasn’t setting himself up for heartbreak like this. But it wouldn’t have been fair to tell Alex to change and George would never hurt him like that anyway.

But this night, Alex’s talent for sidestepping reality is dead and buried. He’s hurt and he’s lost and his vulnerable, so George won’t say his own truth:

This was doomed from the start.

You’ve let yourself be hurt by things out of your control.

You can’t race with your head like this.

You need to move on.

Instead he only says, “He’ll come back to you.”

Alex releases one hand to nudge a cat closer to his chest. He lowers his head, voice muffled by the fur. “I wish I could believe you.”

[emylilas]

Day 5: Favourite fight scenes

I was trying to find an original way to show my favourite fight scenes of S2 and I'm just glad it does look like the initial plan!

[pin-yao]

[meamiiikiii]

kagepro day...