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dancedance-resolution · 3 years

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here's my design for goty 2022 (in an au where copyright isn't an issue)

FACTS

name: nia mahdi

age: 11

ethnicity: persian

religion: muslim

family: nia is an only child. she was born in charlottesville, va, after parents immigrated there from iran.

notes: nia is autistic and trans <3

DOLL

face mold: nia would get a new face mold that is designed based on ethnically persian features

skin tone: 25 ("tan skin with warm neutral undertones")

eye color: dark brown

freckles: yes

hair cut: wavy, very long (kanani length)

hair color: dark brown

meet outfit: a trans pride flag colored scrunchy for her hair, a light blue zip-up sweatshirt that says "i am proud to be autistic" on the back, this t-shirt (a light blue t-shirt with fan art of dreamer with a trans pride flag cape) beneath that sweatshirt, these shorts (pastel plaid knee-length shorts), lindsey's striped leggings beneath those shorts, and sperry shoes

meet accessories: bright purple ear defenders, an AAC tablet, a doll-sized version of the 2021 dc pride comic book, this pink kryptonite chewelry

BOOK 1

(these books would have three authors - me, an author who is muslim and a second generation immigrant, and an author who is a trans woman of color. the reason for three authors is so that we can tell nia's story authentically - i'm autistic and have autism gender like nia, the second author is muslim and an immigrant like nia, and the third author is specifically a trans woman of color like nia.)

in chapter 1 we'll briefly go over this background information:

nia came out to her parents as trans on the car ride home from the last day of first grade. she chose the name "nia" because she wanted to name herself after nia nal, a character on her favorite show (supergirl) because nia nal is trans like she is, nia nal is an alien (and nia mahdi oftentimes feels like an alien around other humans), and nia nal is a really cool superhero! (unspoken: nia nal is nia mahdi's special interest.)

it took nia mahdi's parents a little bit of time to wrap their heads around her truth, but soon, they fully accepted nia for who she is.

that summer, her parents informed nia's school of her correct name, pronouns, and gender. and nia started growing out her hair, and she's never cut it since! nia loves her long hair.

when nia started second grade, nia's classmates sometimes accidentally called her by the wrong name and pronouns, but they always apologized and corrected themselves when nia pointed out their mistake. a few kids were confused, but once nia explained that she knows she's a girl just as well as you know you're a boy/girl, they all understood and accepted her :)

now onto the real content of the first book, which takes place from september to december:

nia's just started sixth grade at a new middle school. it's really loud, big, and hard. but she has a friend, ender. ender doesn't speak english well (he moved to america from turkey just last year), but that's okay because nia has trouble speaking sometimes too.

one day, nia's parents take her to a doctor, and she has to answer a lot of questions and take a lot of tests.

a few weeks later, nia's parents sit her down and tell her that she has been diagnosed with autism.

nia researches autism and feels very relieved and validated. (unspoken: autism becomes one of nia's special interests.)

at school, nia gets some cool accomodations: she's allowed to wear ear defenders at lunch and in the hallways, she can keep a tablet in her backpack to use for AAC when necessary, and she can use the school's sensory break room when necessary.

one time, nia gets very upset after receiving a "bad grade" on a reading test. a few of the questions asked her to identify characters' emotions, motivations, etc., and nia wants to explain to her teacher that her autism makes "emotional reading between the lines" hard for her. but she's so upset that her mouth isn't working properly, so she uses her AAC to talk to the teacher.

after that, one of nia's classmates makes a rude comment about her AAC. speaking through her AAC, nia explains to him why she uses her AAC. she stands up for herself.

in her free time, nia keeps researching autism and disability justice advocacy. she begins to think that her friend ender might be autistic too - he has a lot of autistic traits, and she's never felt alien around him in the way she does around most people.

she tells ender about her theory. ender says he's not sure whether or not he thinks he's autistic. but he does know that the hallways are far too loud, and he would like to be able to wear ear defenders like nia. so nia lends ender her spare pair of ear defenders.

the next day at lunch, ender gives nia back her ear defenders and reveals that he got in trouble for wearing in the hallway. the teacher thought he was wearing headphones and listening to music (which isn't allowed), and ender couldn't remember the english words to explain to her that they were just to shield him from the noise.

nia wants to help ender be able to wear defenders. she schedules a meeting with the guidance counselor. together, she and ender explain to the guidance counselor that ender just wants to wear ear defenders in the loud hallways. the counselor says that ender can't do that since he doesn't have an official accommodations letter.

nia leaves the office very upset. she knows from her research that autism diagnoses are very expensive and hard to get. she wants to find a way to get ender this accommodation without an official letter.

so nia makes a plan: she and ender write a long essay explaining why ender should be allowed to wear ear defenders.

they present the essay to the counselor, and she's convinced by their arguement. ender is now allowed to wear ear defenders in the hallway :)

to celebrate their victory, nia buys ender bright purple ear defenders (the same type she has) so that they can match :)

and that's the end of book 1

BOOK 2

book 2 takes place from january to march

nia goes on puberty blockers. nia's glad that she won't have to go through male puberty, but she also feels weird about it. nia is very excited to start wearing a hijab, and her mom says that she can start wearing a hijab when she goes through puberty and transitions from being a girl to being a woman. so, if nia isn't going through puberty now, when will she get to start wearing a hijab?

nia talks to ender about her problem. ender suggests that she should talk to her mom about it.

nia talks to her mom about her concerns. nia's mom explains that the shift from girl to woman involves more than just her body changing: it involves growth, strength of spirit, and learning about oneself. nia's mom will be able to tell when she's ready to start wearing the hijab, even if nia isn't going through puberty. nia feels a lot better now.

the next day at lunch, nia tells ender the good news. he is very happy for her. he then tells nia that he's scared of puberty too. he asks nia how she knew she was a girl, and nia explains how it was this strong internal feeling. ender reveals that he feels like he's not a boy or a girl. he's afraid that that means he's weird or broken. nia explains that he's not weird or broken - some people are non-binary, which means that they're not fully a boy or fully a girl. ender really likes that word. nia also tells ender that some non-binary like to use the gender-neutral pronouns "they/them" and asks ender if he would like her to start using those pronouns for him. ender says that he's not sure. he likes he/him pronouns, he thinks, at least for now. nia smiles and tells him that she's proud of him.

the spring dance is in march. nia and her mom go shopping for an oufit. at first, nia drifts towards the pretty dresses. she loves how they look and feels great in them, but she wants to try on suits too. she feels a little bit insecure when she realizes that she loves how she looks in the suit too. (plus, this navy suit will go better with her purple ear defenders than the colorful dresses will.) she's scared that her classmates will think she's not a "real girl" if she comes to the dance in a suit, but then she remembers her conversation with ender - when ender asked her how she knew she's a girl, her answer was that it was just something she knew. her gender isn't defined by her clothing preferences - she's just as much of a real girl in this suit as in those dresses. so nia buys the suit, and she feels very happy and confident.

at the dance, she finds that ender is wearing a skirt (and a tuxedo shirt and blazer). she runs up to him, and they both happy stim. they have a lot of fun dancing and snacking on cheez its together.

BOOK 3

book 3 takes place from april to june

the main plot of book 3 is going to be nia's grandmother visiting from iran for three months. nia learns a lot of new information about her family culture.

in june, to celebrate the end of the school year, nia's school has a multi-cultural night.

ender signs up to bring in some traditional turkish food and share some of the poetry his dad has written in turkish. he encourages nia to sign up for multi-cultural night too!

so nia signs up.

together, nia and her grandmother cook a ton of traditional iranian food to share at the celebration. she and her grandmother also work together to sew a special kaftan for nia.

the night of the celebration, nia dresses up in her kaftan and grabs the containers of food. as she's getting ready to leave, her father asks her to stop so he can take a picture of her. her mother says, "wait! i have one other thing for the picture!" (but spoken in faarsi). she emerges with a hijab for nia. she helps nia put on the hijab and tells nia that she's seen how nia's grown into a woman this past school year (aka, over the course of these 3 books). nia is so happy that she cries.

at the multi-cultural night, everyone loves the food and nia's kaftan and hijab. when ender sees nia's hijab, he starts happy stimming, and nia starts happy stimming too.

that's all my plans for goty 2022!

#american girl dolls #ag #long post

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harleyquinnbluemoonlove · 4 years

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Welcoming the new Social Movement/Platform/Political Party in the World

Official Name: Blue Dog Bite Mafia 888 *BETA*

Owner/CEO/Founder/Dealer/Player/Delivery BAD B:

Current Name: Monica Gill FUTURE Name: Mercedes Lynnette Giovanni

Email: [email protected]

Current Financial Status: $0.00 ---- You may DONATE by using CASH APP Cash Tag #$bluedogbitemafia888

***MY CYBER FAMILY MUST ENSURE THAT DONATIONS ARE NOT HIGHJACKED/STOLEN****

BASIC IDEA/PLAN OF ATTACK/EXECUTION OR POSITIVE WORDS LIKE “LAUNCH”. We can issue an ATTACK or a LAUNCH CODE.

I will dumb it down a little bit. I am taking advantage of my position of power, now that I am a Celebrity in the World. Its the greatest feeling in the world, feels better than good sex and that is a hard thing for me to admit because I love some good, hot, sweaty sex and I’ve been going without for several weeks. I almost fell like a Nun because I cannot even pleasure myself because I was molested as a child by Lovie Price’s boyfriend “Frank Parker” a gasoline man from an early. I told Connie Price about it when I was 15 and her name at the time was Connie Dunford. It was the same day Brandie Ann Thompson said Curtis Triplett tried to rape her in the bathroom at the house In Frayser, Memphis TN. Brandie Ann in her hayday, resembled a youthful Cameron Diaz. Cameron Diaz dated Justin Timberlake once upon a time. She played in the move “The mask” and the mask was green. At the end of the movie, the dog put on the mask. You all know, when you wear that mask---you become a Shape Shifter, transforming into anything/anyone you think will grab the Hot or Not Rated #10 Woman’s ATTENTION/HEART/LOVE and will do anything, I mean anything to get it. The secret to my success is a compilation of everything good, bad, dirty, evil and let’s call it “The Struggle” or the “Human Experience”.

Old School (OS) Operating System (OS) Back to Basics (B2B) Brandie Thompson (BT) Barry Thompson (BT) Blue Tooth (BT) Brandie Smith (BS) Bull Shit (BS) Rent A Center (RAC) Roger Adren Crawford (RAC) $1K (RAK) Rags to Riches Richard Abernathy (RA) **secret boyfriend shh!!** Douche Bag (DB) or Douglas Belknap (DB) Thomas Jones (TJ) County Road (CR) Danny Thomas (DT) Deanna Thomas (DT) ... Trying to show you how I think period dot. In ya’ll are slow, period dot also equal two dots. You must have two dots to play connect the dots and draw the lines to illustrate inspiration into a masterpiece. The best pieces of Art are very old, have a solid reputation, and is properly curated to ensure it maintains its value for infinity times three.

Basically, you can get with my program, drink my Kool Aid, swallow your pride, do the right thing, if you have done something wrong, you really need to return to your basic religious beliefs what they may be, get right with yourself, because what you have done will come to light, exposed, we are moving on from there. We are, as a society going to change and deliver the children and the children’s children: a brighter future with more options, a limited amount of privacy, give them the world and see what they can accomplish with living in a world of positive vibes, beautiful colors, great music, entrepreneurship, dreams, and now, the little girls if we get married will truly believe in fairytales. This right here is whats up because we have an opportunity, once in a lifetime opportunity, to fix society, establish unity and peace, competition is good but everyone needs a chance to win sometimes to boost their confidence and pride. When there is monopoly or kingdom, it fosters the seven deadly sins, seven capital sins, and the seven cardinal sins, which is systemic to original sin.

Genesis clearly explains that certain things were created on certain days and back time was measured. You cannot just create a man or a woman. First, you need the Universe. Then, you need the Galaxy which creates Space. In Space, you have the moon, stars, sun, planets, black holes, asteroids, comets, shooting stars, orbit, gravitational pull. Here we are on planet Earth with 7 continents and 7 oceans. I like the number 8 because it represent a number, a symbol, and no limitations--infinity. My son was born on 3-8-03 weighing 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 19.5 inches long, color: BLUE, life: No sign of it. It took 10 minutes and PLEADING WITH THE LORD AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS SCREAMING PRAYING TO PLEASE GIVE HIM LIFE, I DON’T WANT TO HAVE GONE THROUGH 35.5 HOURS OF LABOR AND 7 HOURS OF HARD PUSHING WITH NO PAIN MEDICINE, NO EPIDURAL, GAVE BIRTH TO A STILL BORN BABY NATURALLY AND THE GOOD LORD ANSWERED MY PRAYERS AND THAT BOY CRIED AND WENT TO THE NICU AT BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL IN MONTGOMERY COUNTY, MARYLAND. ITS ALSO REFERRED TO AS “THE PRESIDENTS HOSPITAL”.

He is 17 years old, already a MASTERMIND and a Professional Gamer. He is so smart like me, that he had to design/build/code his own computer because there is not a computer on the planet that can keep up with his level of gaming. I saw a photo of it. Its a desktop computer with the case taken off the side--lit up with blue LED lights

It’s Confession Time and Holy Communion Time that means confess your sin, wrongdoing, break bread, eat bread, drink wine, not whine. No days off, no excuse, no immunity, no setups, no blame game, no liars, no stealing, checks and balances, no absolute power because absolute power fosters absolute corruption, which is why were in this position right now with COVID-19, Corona Virus.

I think one person needs a pardon because he has stayed on the job, even though he was originally lied to by the Feds. He deserves a pardon, record expunged, and an opportunity. I see great potential, just needs an opportunity, believe in himself, and have the courage to escape his own prison of gold diggers, groupies, fans, and whores.

In this triad, it is a rags to riches story times three. There is only 1 TRUE VERSION of ME, and its right here in Memphis TN, age: 41(Birth Cert).

To succeed in any sports game, you must be fit, educated, content with yourself to include your pros/cons/demons and knowledgeable & intelligent enough to know that I am certified True OG, I got your back no matter what because to me money ain’t a thing, fame fades just like stars, but loyal dogs do not turn on their master unless they are abused or hungry. I am a Blue AKC Royal Bloodline Pitbull, Staffordshire Terrier. Pitbull is the image you need to have in your mind when you think of ME.

#donations #loyalty #888 #TRUMP2020 #IG #WHISTEBLOWER ACT #RULES #ESPNSPORTS #RAPGODS #GREEKGODS #GOD #CLASHOFTITANS #THEGAME #THEROCK #GLUE #DOCTORS #LAWYERS #COWBOYS #DANCE #L.I.F.E. #LOVE #SM #EM

#NEED SOME COM[ANY AND VITAMIN D

BLUE, COME ON UNLESS YOU ARE “CHICKEN” “SCARED”

I PROMISE I WILL NOT BITE. BUT, I AM STARVING, LONELY, NEED MONEY TO CREATE AND LAUNCH MY DREAMS TO POSITIVELY AND EFFECTIVELY CHANGE THE WORLD WHICH WILL PLACE ME AND PRESIDENT TRUMP IN THE HISTORY BOOKDS. AND THE HISTORY BOOKS ARE GOING TO BECOME FACTBOOKS, AND HISTORY CLASSES WILL BE MANDATORY THROUGHOUT LIFE REGARDLESS OF AGE, POSITION, JOB, FINANCIAL STATUS BECAUSE THE BEST EDUCATION IS A “CONTINUOUS EDUCATION”. IF YOU DO NOT CONTINUE LEARNING, YOU BECOME RUSTY AND THEN, YOU CANNOT KEEP UP THE FAST PACED CHANGES OF ADVANCE TECHNOLOGY IN THE REAL WORLD AND IN THE REAL GAME OF LIFE.

RECOMMENDATIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

1. DONATE MONEY TO MY CAUSE ON CASH APP

$BLUEDOGBITEMAFIA888

DO NOT HACK MY PHONE OR MY LAPTOP, DO NOT HACK ANYTHING OR ANYBODY BC YOU CANNOT DO IT BETTER THAN U.S. BC U.S. CREATED THE INTERNET IN WASHINGTON DC AT THE PENTAGON CALLED “DARPANET” IN 1974. THE FIRST COMPUTER WAS AN APPLE, SECOND COMPUTER WAS MICROSOFT. A GOOD BRAND IS A HP WITH MS WINDOWS. I HAVE A BLUE HP LAPTOP STREAM, I HAVE A BLACK APPLE IPHONE 7. I AM ON A WIFI WITH A VPN THAT KEEPS GETTING DISABLED. THE SOUND ON MY PHONE DOES NOT WORK. I AM BACKING UP BOTH DEVICES AND GOING TO RESET TO FACTORY SETTINGS SO I CAN GURANTEE EFFECTIVE DIGITAL SECURITY.

2. I NEED COMPANY TO SIT WITH ME, DRINK WITH ME. I WOULD LOVE SOME JACK AND COKE OR A BUD LIGHT. I WOULD ALSO LOVE SOME FOOD THAT CONTAINS RED MEAT TO ASSIST ME WITH MY BLOOD PROBLEMS. BUDDY OR BLUE OR YO -- FIGURE IT AND SEND ME SOMEONE I KNOW. I AM TOO PRETTY AND TOO COOL TO BE CHILLING BY MYSELF WITH NO FOOD, NO ALCOHOL, NO MONEY, NO WEED, ETC.

3. SELF EVALUATE OR DO A PEER REVIEW/. SELF EVALUATION IS LOOKING AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND THINKING ABOUT YOUR LIFE. I LIKE TO WRITE THINGS DOWN, IF HELPS ME. IT WILL BRING ABOUT A SENSE OF UNDERSTANDING WHO, WHAT, WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE, HOW YOU BECAME PERSON, AND DESIGN YOUR OWN ROADMAP TO BEING A BETTER PERSON AND OPENING YOUR HEART TO REALIZATION THAT THE CHILDREN ARE THE FUTURE, RIGHT WE ARE THE WORLD, WE CAN ACHIEVE GREATNESS, A NEW TYPE OF MAGIC “UTOPIA”.

WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT? WHAT DO YOU WANT OUT OF LIFE? ARE YOU HAPPY WITH YOURSELF? CAN YOU FREE YOUR MIND? CAN YOU OPEN YOUR HEARTS? CAN YOU COMMIT? DO YOU KNOW WHEN TO WALK AWAY? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN? DO YOU HAVE CONFIDENCE? ARE YOU IN YOUR OWN PRISON--YOUR MIND, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR RELATIONSHIP STATUS?

WISDOM COMES WITH TIME, EXPERIENCE, EDUCATION, HARD WORK, SERVICE, LOYALTY, PURPOSE, AND TRAVELING.

At the end of the day, who do you want to be with?

Woman - Wise can deliver the world or drop the world, age 41 -- looks better than 20 & 30 year old GIRLS. Does not care about money, fame, status, power because the game was scheduled and unfortunately, unaware of the OP -- she walked, ran, sprinted STOLE the Flag, and won the game.

Everyone wants to still run their mouths, try to control a man, and those hos, have no power, position, fame, etc. They are with or around you because of who you are, what you have done, and what you can give them---in my opinion that is abuse of power and targeting someone to manipulating them to do what you want them to do.

I like structure, things to be done a certain way because I like cleanliness, organization, faith, love, hope, trust, and loyalty.

I would not cop an attitude with everyone, if I did not feel like the world was against me. Hint, hint -- I don’t trust authority figures because I was molested, abused, targeted, almost died several times, lied to, cheated on, setups, smear campaigns, gossiped about, bullied, beat on, yelled at, called names, jealous women everywhere so dumb they forget I have a hunger against Human Trafficking. People are on this RACISM BULL SHIT.

Its 2020, Racism = IGNORANCE AND IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS ANYMORE, IGNORANCE IS DEADLY.

Basic belief system of Karma, it is a metaphysical/paranormal reality that is mixed with real, artificial, and soon-to-be virtual reality. It is what it is.

What you set your mind, what you do and the thoughts and actions you put into the world will either grant you your dreams or come back times three by the of karma, what goes around, comes around.

I want/will do good and be a good role model for everyone. I am going to teach, help you, do what I want, when I want, how I want because I know my worth, my value, and what I can GURANTEE/DELIVER.

Greed, jealousy, laziness, and all the ugly things that are in the world

WILL

get you no where but hungry, lonely but free, penniless, candy-less, eliminate sports.

COMMIT OR QUIT

MY MISSION WILL ENDURE AND CARRY ON UNTIL I FEEL MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I DO NOT HAVE A FAILURE TO THRIVE AND I DO NOT LACK A WILL TO LIVE.

MY ISNT OVER, YET;

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granvarones · 5 years

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Since last August, we have been working hard to make this Gran Varones Fellowship happen. When we launched Gran Varones on this date exactly five years ago, it has been our commitment to build power at the community level. It was this very commitment that inspired us to launch the Gran Varones Positive Digital Arts Fellowship. Gran Varones was awarded a grant (our very first!) from ViiV Healthcare to launch a year-long (March 2019 – January 2020) national fellowship to develop the leadership of a cohort of six HIV positive Latinx Gay, Queer, Trans and Bisexual Men ages 21-35. This cohort of creatives will be supported with resources to combat HIV stigma and promote family acceptance in Latinx communities through digital storytelling, community building and cultural organizing.

Through an online application process, we received responses from brilliant applicants from all over the country. Narrowing the list down to six people was almost impossible. In fact, we were originally budgeted to select five fellows but decided on six because, well, why not?

We selected six brilliant creatives from just as many cities. We prioritized creatives who are new to the digital organizing and/or storytelling space. And after sharing time and space with them during our first of two convenings a few weeks ago, we are excited about all of the magic that they will be creating as individuals and as a cohort.

In addition to creating content for GV, each fellow will organize a community-based event. This will expand our commitment of building power through storytelling by making it even more accessible. These six fellows are going to create a new earth! Here are the six Gran Varones Positive Digital Arts Fellowship:

Carlos Moreno (He/They) Los Angeles, CA

A Gemini in his 28th year of existence, Carlos is a proud Chicanx living his truth as an HIV Positive Queer person from Tucson, Arizona. A product of migration, this first generation being strives to make a helpful and lasting impact on the HIV/AIDS community, both globally and locally. He has stood alongside others in the fight against HIV/AIDS in prevention and as well as in care. Unscathed by stigma, He has navigated the last ten years of his life by reclaiming any animosity he's faced and turned it into a therapeutic artistic expressions. A natural introvert himself, Carlos has struck chords with folks using simple imaging and messaging, leaving faces shocked, surprised, amused, or not in agreement, but definitely began a conversation. Carlos wants nothing more than for other Poz folk to join in on this ARTivism movement, share their experiences and connect with others so that we don’t all feel alone, especially Queer and Trans people of Color. It has been a dream of his to see there be space for distributing such products at events where other LGBTQ/Hetero/ HIV/AIDS information is being accessed. Carlos believes that it is important that people living with or affected by HIV/AIDS have access to the same empowering messages the HIV Negative and prevention communities do, that they are equally represented with pride and equity. Without a real push for some financial assistance, these items may only be limited to the creator and not have the opportunity to help inspire other Poz communities to flourish.

José A. Romero (He/They) Durham, NC

is an abolitionist organizer, immigrant defense strategist, and Poz Poet living in Durham, NC. The first in their bio-family born in the “US”, José is the descendant of working-class immigrants from Morazán, El Salvador and Michoacán, Mexico. Born in Washington State and raised between there and Michoacán, José’s political awakening arose while witnessing kindred femmes undo misogyny and while learning English to confront the borders their family endures. José moved to Philadelphia to attend the University of Pennsylvania where they were active in movements to confront anti-blackness/homophobia. In Durham they use their research background and direct-action experience to honor past, present, and future radical ancestors. Inspired by apocalypse and alchemy, José’s abolitionist organizing for black/brown flourishing includes work with Durham Beyond Policing, Durham’s Participatory Budgeting Steering Committee, and various immigrant/queer/trans defenders. They have worked on anti-deportation/sanctuary cases across NC and are a proud member of Southerner’s on New Ground working to end money bail, abolish ICE, and pleasurably undo anti-blackness in Latinx communities. José is currently Directing the first Latinx Southern Regional Health conference for the National Latino Commission on AIDS. They’re working on two collections of poetry titled ICEBREAKERSand POZITIVE. They are the host of an open mic series and queer friendship/dating party collectively called MELT. They make their money working at a queer punk bar, as an interpreter, and as a consultant. You can find/book them at @PupusaPapi_27 on Instagram and @RomeroFlux on Twitter. José dreams of curating an Arabic/Mandarin/Spanish exhibit/mixtape as well as opening and inviting y’all to a mobile Freedom School dedicated to astrobiology, pupusas, synesthesia, and uprising.

J. Aces Lira (He/Him/His) Chicago, IL

Aces Lira is an MSW/MA graduate student in Women Studies and Gender Studies at Loyola University Chicago. As a Research Assistant, he is based in the US Regional Network within the International Partnership for Queer Youth Resilience (INQYR) and is getting a foot in the door on all things research-related. Outside of the books, Aces orchestrates portraits along with art through different mediums and also lives for National Park excursions.

Marci Garcia (He/Him/His) Brownsville, TX

Sometimes life feels just like one of those theatrical plays or big screen movies; a bunch of dialogue, drama, adventure, tragedy and tears, and a lot of laughter and happy moments as well, all combined. My movie opens in Mexico, born and raised until the age of 10. I was a lucky boy that grew up in a very loving family; abuelos, tios, primos and my beautiful parents and brother always by my side. Still, I was a lonely kid. A kid that knew he was different and had a very a hard time fitting in, all the way through high school and college years. Never an obstacle to aspire to go out in the world and follow my dreams though. Today, I feel I am blessed and thankful to life for being different. I didn’t choose to be who I am, I just got lucky. Throughout my professional career I have wanted to find the place where I know I am not only getting a paycheck but also making a positive difference somehow. Again, through life’s unique way of arranging things I believe I have found that. I am currently part of an extraordinary non-profit organization whose goal is to provide sexual education, HIV prevention and wellness services to the community of South Texas. Being here truly inspires me to become more involved, gain knowledge and to help out combat the HIV stigma that is still out there. I know because I see it, I hear it, I live it. I believe I am working for this agency for a reason. I believe I am ready to accept and say who I am, what I am and what I aspire to become.

Dimetri O’Brien (He/Him/His) Washington, DC

Strategic, multidisciplinary designer & social media coordinator with a spirit for service & innovation born in Port of Spain Trinidad with roots in Jackson, MS . Dimetri has worked with a multitude of clients on projects ranging from graphic design to consultation & management and although his skill set is vast, his greatest expertise revolves in the worlds of programming for YMSM ages 18-29, social media, brand identity design, content creation and print collateral. Dimetri currently serves as a communications assistant in Washington, DC managing communications and branding for a national non-profit agency. His graphic design portfolio can be viewed at "dimmydoesit.com"

Raúl Xavier Ramos (He/Him/His/They/Them/Theirs) Brooklyn, NY

Raúl is a 26-year-old Boriqueer social justice organizer based out of Brooklyn, New York. Using graphic design and performance art as forms of accessible political education , Raúl is dedicated to the liberation of all queer and Gender Non-conforming people of color, persons with disabilities, and those that experience realities in ways the culture would call "mentally ill." Healing justice is at the center of Raúl's work, having become Poz at the turning point of his adult life. He is unapologetic in how he loves and in the ways he fights for justice.

#thegranvarones #granvarones #queer #non-binary #gay #latinx #afrolatinx #hiv #poz #aids #storytelling #creatives #lgbtq #qtpoc #community #end stigma

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writemarcus · 3 years

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Gingold Theatrical Group  presents six free readings of new plays-in-progress, developed in GTG's Speaker's Corner Development Lab, beginning June 5th

Posted by: Official_Press_Release 02:14 pm EDT 06/04/21 Gingold Theatrical Group Announces the Phase 1, Plays-In-Progress Readings from Speaker's Corner Writers Group: Kate Douglas, Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, Divya Mangwani, Seth McNeill, Sophie Sagan-Gutherz, and Marcus Scott Six FREE Online Readings June 5th - 17th Gingold Theatrical Group (David Staller, Artistic Director), now in its 16th Season, continues its new play development with the Phase 1 Plays-In-Progress virtual table readings of this year's SPEAKER'S CORNER Writers Group. This season, writers Kate Douglas, Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, Divya Mangwani, Seth McNeill, Sophie Sagan-Gutherz, and Marcus Scott are developing works in response to Shaw's Arms and the Man. To learn more about these closed developmental table reads, and to register in advance to join, please visit gingoldgroup.org. This year's readings will be: The Apiary by Kate Douglas, directed by Colette Robert June 5th at 2:30 PM ET Karma Sutra Chai Tea Latte by Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, directed by Arpita Mukherjee June 8th at 7 PM ET the scold's bridle by Sophie Sagan-Gutherz, directed by Jaye Hunt June 10th at 7 PM ET Untitled Conspiracy Play by Seth McNeill, directed by Lico Whitfield June 12th at 7 PM ET Vigil-Aunties by Divya Mangwani, directed by Aneesha Kudtarkar June 15th at 7 PM ET There Goes the Neighborhood by Marcus Scott, directed by Christopher Burris June 17th at 7 PM ET Named after the corner of London's Hyde Park where George Bernard Shaw and other political speakers have delivered speeches since 1855, GTG's SPEAKERS' CORNER brings together six to ten writers each year who will spend the year exploring a specific Shaw play and writing individual new plays in response to that text and Shaw's forward thinking humanitarian ideals. The group is led by GTG Associate Director Ilana Becker, a producer and director specializing in new play and musical development, community-driven projects, and arts education. In addition to serving as Gingold Theatrical Group's Associate Director, Ilana is The Civilians' R&D Program Director. She has served on the staff of All for One Theater, Lincoln Center Education, and Bret Adams Ltd, and spent a year as the Associate Artistic Director and Interim Artistic Director of Sun Valley Center for the Arts' Company of Fools. Ilana is a proud member of the WP Theater 2018-2020 Producers Lab, an alum of the Civilians' R&D Group, Lincoln Center Theater Directors Lab, DirectorsLabChicago, Fresh Ground Pepper PlayGroup, The Orchard Project's Liveness Lab, as well as a Playwrights Horizons Robert Moss Directing Fellow and an Emerging Leader of NY Arts Fellow. She is the creator of Argument Sessions, an ongoing series of immersive variety-theater events that weave SCOTUS argument transcripts and decisions with ensemble-driven, collaboratively developed original material, and is a member of Producing Blue. "It has been a joy to witness and participate in the from-scratch development of these six ferociously funny, wildly intelligent, and genuinely ambitious plays. While they're all unique pieces in tone and exploration, they're also all distinctly emerging from this moment of vast friction and change. This cohort supported one another's development over the past season, and we look forward to inviting our community into the next stage of their processes," said Ms. Becker. Speakers' Corner members meet virtually, bi-monthly, and GTG will host showings of the works that Speakers' Corner develops at the end of the season. The group's members were identified through an open application process under the guidance of Becker, GTG Artistic Director David Staller, and this season's Speakers' Corner Readers and Advisory Committee: é boylan, Stephanie Rolland, Dina Vovsi, along with Speakers' Corner alumni Hank Kim, Mallory Jane Weiss, and Lorenzo Roberts. Kate Douglas (she/her) is a writer, composer and performer. Recent work includes The Ninth Hour, her operetta with Shayfer James at The Met Cloisters (the first performance of its kind in the Fuentidueña Chapel), her immersive play Extinct (produced with support from a LMCC Engagement Grant) and her audio experience Dandelion Story, which received an Honorable Mention from SPACE on Ryder Farm's CSArt Program. Her work has been developed at The Orchard Project, New Victory Theater, The Civilians R&D Group, SPACE on Ryder Farm, Rhinebeck Musicals and the Writer's Colony at Goodspeed. She is a Dramatists Guild Fellow and a current member of The Orchard Project Greenhouse. As a complement to her artistic practice, she is a student of herbalism, horticulture and biodynamic craniosacral therapy. www.kate-douglas.com Aeneas Sagar Hemphill (he/him) is an Indian-American playwright and screenwriter based in NYC and DC. Weaving through many genres, his work builds new worlds to illuminate our own, investigating the ghosts that haunt our lives and communities with passion, pathos, and humor. He was a 2019 Resident Artist with Monson Arts Center and 2017-2018 Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre, as well as semi-finalist for the 2019 Princess Grace Award, semi-finalist for the 2019 Mabou Mines Resident Artist Program, and finalist for the 2017 Many Voices Fellowship. His plays include: Black Hollow (Argo Collective, Dreamscape Theatre), The Troll King (Pipeline), Childhood Songs (Monson Arts), The Republic of Janet & Arthur (Amios), The Red Balloon (Noor Theatre), A Stitch Here or There (DarkHorse Dramatists, Slingshot Theatre), A Horse and a Housecat (Slingshot Theatre). MFA Playwriting, Columbia University. Divya Mangwani (she/her) is a writer and theatre artist from Pune, India, now based in New York. She examines the absurdities of the social, political and mythical. Divya was the founder and Artistic Director of Moonbeam Factory Theatre, where she wrote, directed and produced plays that were staged in India, Singapore and Glasgow. In New York, she has developed work with UNICEF, Soho Rep, New York Theatre Workshop, The Flea, Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre, Mabou Mines, Hypokrit Theatre, Project Y, Pipeline Theatre, Rising Sun, LMCC and Governors Island. Selected work: Elements of Change (UN Climate Change Week), Yes, Uncle (finalist, Leah Ryan Prize 2018), Rise of the River (semi-finalist Playwrights Realm 2019), and One, Two, Three (winner of best script, director, play and audience vote, Short+Sweet Festival). Divya was a NYTW 2050 Artistic Fellow, Hypokrit Theatre Tamasha playwright, Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre and is currently in the Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab. Seth McNeill (he/him) is a New York City based playwright and theatre artist. His plays include Bastard (Dixon Place, Last Frontier Theatre Conference, Up Theater Company), we're all athletes (Amios First Draughts, Samuel French OOB Festival), and Natchetoches (Fresh Ground Pepper, Hambidge Center, JookMS). Other plays have been presented or developed with Fresh Ground Pepper, Amios NYC, Exquisite Corpse, The Barrow Group, Primary Stages, TinyRhino, The Secret Theatre, and Rule of 7x7, and he has been a semifinalist for the Shakespeare's New Contemporaries Prize and Primary Stages ESPA Drills. As a script reader and dramaturg he has worked with Theatre for a New Audience, the American Shakespeare Center, the Hambidge Center, and The Farm Theater, and he is a two-time recipient of the Vera Mowry Roberts Fellowship. Member of the Dramatists Guild. Education: Masters from Hunter College. Teaching: Hunter College. www.sethmcneill.com. Sophie Sagan-Gutherz (they/them) is a NYC based writer, actor and singer. Their first full-length play Marked Green at Birth, Marked Female at Birth has been supported by Pride Plays (Rattlestick), the Williamstown Theatre Festival and the Tribe Theatre Company. They've written a monologue with the 24 Hour Play Festival (performed by Lea DeLaria) and have devised and performed a 10 minute solo piece Disability & Celebrity Culture (Am I Write Ladies?). They have been a finalist for the Emerging Writers Group (The Public) as well as a semi-finalist for The R&D Group (The Civilians) & PlaySpace (Pipeline Theatre Company). BFA: NYU Tisch in Drama with an Honors Thesis in Theatre Studies. sophiesagangutherz.com Marcus Scott (he/him) is a playwright and journalist. Selected works: Fidelio (Libretto; Heartbeat Opera at Baruch Performing Arts Center, 2018; called "poignant" by The New York Times), Tumbleweed (Finalist for the 2017 BAPF; semi-finalist for the 2017/'18 New Dramatists Princess Grace Fellowship Award), Cherry Bomb (recipient of the 2017 Drama League First Stage Artist-In-Residence; 2017 Finalist for the Yale Institute for Music Theatre) and Sundown Town (Finalist for Abingdon Theatre Company's Virtual Fall Festival Of Short Plays). His work has been developed or presented by Joe's Pub, 54 Below, APAC, Dixon Place, Space on Ryder Farm, Cherry Lane Theater (DUAF), CoLAB Arts, Symphony Space, MicroTheater Miami, among others. Scott is a four-time finalist for the R&D Group at The Civilians, a two-time finalist for NBT's I AM SOUL Playwrights Residency and a 2019 finalist for the Bushwick Starr's Starr Reading Series. His articles appeared in Time Out New York, American Theatre, Playbill, Elle, Out, Essence, among others. MFA: NYU Tisch. In addition to Speakers' Corner, GTG's on-going play development also includes PRESS CUTTINGS, which, in recognition of Shaw's career as a theatre critic, supports the development of new plays written by theatre journalists. Press Cuttings has commissioned new plays by Jeremy McCarter, Robert Simonson, and David Cote, and, in June of 2017, presented an AEA workshop of David Cote's Otherland directed by May Adrales. Now celebrating its 16th year, Gingold Theatrical Group's Project Shaw made history in December 2009 as the first company ever to present performances of every one of Shaw's 65 plays (including full-length works, one-acts and sketches). They are now also including plays by writers who share Shaw's activist socio-political views embracing human rights and free speech, including work by Chekhov, Ibsen, Elizabeth Robins, Rachel Crothers, Pinero, Wilde, Barrie, and Harley Granville-Barker. GTG's other programs include its new play development and educational programs. For those interested in lively off-site discourses, each Project Shaw event is followed by a talk-back with cast members. GTG will be back on stage in person this autumn with a full production of one of Shaw's most provocative plays. Details to follow, soon. Their highly acclaimed Off-Broadway engagement of Shaw's beloved almost historical comedy Caesar and Cleopatra at Theatre Row, hailed as a New York Times Critic's Pick, was named Best Classical Production in Terry Teachout's year-end recap of The Best Theater of 2019 for the Wall Street Journal: "David Staller and the Gingold Theatrical Group nailed it for the second year in a row with another insufficiently appreciated play by George Bernard Shaw, this time a small-scale off-Broadway staging of Caesar and Cleopatra that brought a rarely seen show to persuasive life." In his review earlier this year in The Wall Street Journal he declared "As always, Mr. Staller, who knows more about Shaw than anyone else in America, gets it right, situating the action of the play in a modern-day archaeological dig and keeping the costumes simple and the diction crisp and clear., ...all the more reason to cheer David Staller's splendid new adaptation of one of Shaw's most glittering, least Shakespearean conversation pieces. This is the third of Mr. Staller's small-scale Gingold Theatrical Group productions to be presented off Broadway at Theatre Row. It follows in the wake of his all-but-flawless 2018 Heartbreak House, an uncommonly hard act to follow, and leaves nothing whatsoever to be desired. May his Shaw stagings become annual events!" For more information about Speakers' Corner Writers Group and all the projects of Gingold Theatrical Group, including the acclaimed Project Shaw, call 212-355-7823, email [email protected], or visit online at www.gingoldgroup.org. Linkhttp://www.gingoldgroup.org

#Gingold Group #Gingold Theatrical Group #marcus scott #MarcusScott #write marcus #writemarcus #playwright #playwrights #nyc playwrights #nyc #george bernard shaw

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chiauve · 7 years

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Algernon - Day 21

(Note: We are 21 days in and Jet isn’t awake yet omg how do I do this every time...)(But SOON)

Gilmore was there to greet them when they arrived that evening. His welcome of his colleague was warmer than Joe's, but then Gilmore and Grant had been sharing correspondences long before the cyborgs ever met the doctor.

"I figured we'd let you settle in for the night and then get started fresh in the morning," Gilmore explained, ushering Grant and Joe indoors. The rest of the cyborgs were in the front room and a round of introductions took place, though they had all met Grant before once or twice over the last couple of years, but he could never seem to keep them all straight.

"I was hoping to look over the lab before retiring, if I may? Maybe take a copy of the plans for the 002 unit for some bedtime reading," Grant suggested.

"I'll show you the lab and introduce you to Jet, though he's still unconscious. I'm sorry but I do not leave hard copies of my cyborgs' designs lying around. They would be too easily copied or stolen. I hope you understand."

"Of course. You can give me a rundown of the plan of attack while we're down there, then."

Joe took Grant's bags up to his room while the others dispersed, Chang to prepare dinner and the others to find something to busy them until then. Joe would stay the night with Francoise during the duration of Dr. Grant's stay. She'd earlier taken one look at Joe's room before he left for the airport and pulled at her hair.

"How does this place look worse and worse every time I see it? How are you so messy?"

"Honestly? Jet was the one who always cleaned up, not me. I kinda got used to it."

"Jet's been gone for two years!"

"It's been a messy two years."

She'd all but tossed Joe out of his own room to clean up and prepare it for Dr. Grant herself. Joe hurried out the front door but still heard her scream when she got to his sink. He might have forgotten to rinse it out for the last couple of weeks. Two years of not having an angry six-foot-plus American after you when you didn't clean up tended to make one careless.

That was one of the reasons Joe never realized Jet's hair was dyed. When he was done with the sink it was immaculate. Clean sink, clean shower, swept floor, but otherwise Jet's bed was unmade and he had a habit of tossing his pants wherever.

The house hadn't been the same without Jet's clothes showing up in random places.

Joe placed Grant's bags on the bed and hurried back downstairs, catching up with the two professors as they descended into the underground laboratories. Gilmore glanced back at him and Joe just shrugged. What else was he going to do for a while?

Dr. Grant looked like a child in a candy store as Gilmore showed him the labs and equipment. He oohed and ahhed and wanted to admire and touch everything. Gilmore couldn't help but beam in pride a little.

They moved into the battle room so Gilmore could show Grant 002's specs on the large 3D projector.

"What I'll mostly need help with will be the construction of the body itself and the primary artificial organs," Gilmore explained, scrolling through the broken down sections of the cybernetic specs, "Even now I could attach 002's limbs in my sleep."

"Are you planning on making any alterations to the design?"

"Not this time. I'd rather not add extra stress to Jet by making changes he's not expecting. I can always upgrade him later; he's used to it. However, I'd like to keep the thrusters offline until I know he's ready, so we may have to temporarily disable the neuro-connectors. He knows how to override and refuel the jets himself otherwise."

Grant gestured to the bright neon lines streaking through the framework, dulled only by the mechanics related to the thrusters. "Is that an accelerator? Like 009?"

"An older model, but yes. 002 rarely uses it, though that's probably for the best. He wasn't designed for heavy power output of that kind and the accelerator is draining; that power is better used for his high-speed mode. The accelerator also has a tendency to disrupt the bonding of his armor. I leave it active though, you never know. One split second could mean life or death, right, 009?"

"Yeah," Joe muttered. There had been many split seconds, Joe thought, and Jet still never used it. He could have saved himself using it when the two of them went after the nuclear warheads in space. He could have brought down Maximoff without destroying himself with it. Had the accelerator been damaged and Jet just never said anything? Had he been that low on power?

Gilmore led them to a smaller side-lab that also functioned as his office where he could escape his sometimes very noisy cyborgs to work on his own projects.

"Before we head up for dinner there's one last thing to show you," he said to Dr. Grant, and went to the containment unit in the back of the room. "This is Jet Link. It's his body you'll be helping me construct."

Once moved from the Dolphin III's lab, Gilmore had placed Jet's head in containment and ran a gamut of scans and performed full diagnostics. He'd happily reported no physical damage to Jet's brain and that the cybernetic one was still registering as acceptable. Since then Gilmore installed a new pair of eyes and replaced the tongue and some missing teeth, as well as all the scanners, the chronometer, the translator, and the near-burnt out emergency power and oxygen supplier. He also installed a new transmitter and receiver but planned to keep them offline until Jet had been conscious for a few days.

Aside from the fact Jet's cheeks were still too hollow, he looked much more like how Joe remembered him. His hair was a bit shorter, but blond and unmatted. Francoise did a good job combing it in such a way that the patches where his hair had fallen out or been shaved were covered. The dangling vertebrae were still there and made a macabre addition but Gilmore pointed out that there were some surviving nerves he would try to preserve so the damaged vertebrae would stay intact until they fused Jet's head with his new body.

Despite these improvements, Grant took a look at Jet and stepped back in shock.

"I, uh…" he stammered.

"It's okay," Joe assured him, "I know it's a bit unnerving, but trust me he looks much better than he did."

"Yes, of course. Excuse me, I just didn't expect that, I guess."

Gilmore's brows rose slightly in surprise at Grant's discomfort but then shrugged. "You're brilliant at cybernetics, Phineas, but you always forget cyborgs involve people."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Sorry." Grant still hurried out of the room once he was able.

Joe smirked. "You make the weirdest friends, Doctor."

"Let's just hope he's still able to eat dinner," Gilmore sighed then followed his colleague back up into the house.

The cyborgs were banned from the labs unless Gilmore specifically called for one of them.

This may or may not have been due to uncomfortable hovering.

As such, they went about their chores, played the same board games again and again, or sat around pretending they were reading, or working, or doing anything but thinking about what was going on in the labs below them.

Two years they thought Jet dead, but now the fact that he wouldn't be back and walking among them for at least another week was too long for Joe to stand. He'd given up trying to play video games when he couldn't focus and kept dying and now was just sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for Gilmore to call him, even though the professor was far more likely to call Francoise if he needed one of them.

Still, among the impatience was an underlying feeling of happiness. Jet was alive and would soon indeed be back among them. Chang already announced he was going to make the American's favorite meal for him once he recovered.

"What would that be?" Albert asked over his newspaper.

"Chicken curry tetrazzini."

"I was not expecting that."

"Well it was either that or grilled cheese sandwiches but that seemed a bit underwhelming, considering."

"Wait," Pyunma said, "you said his favorite meal. Don't tell me you're also serving…"

"Yes. With the tetrazzini we'll be having alcoholic root beer floats. And some crappy chicken nuggets leftover from that fast food place in town he loved so much. I would never serve such a thing normally but he loved them so…"

"The longer in the fridge and the more congealed the grease the better, yeah."

Chang visibly shuddered. "And for dessert…"

"No!" Pyunma and Albert yelled simultaneously.

"Yes! Banana slices in milk with sugar!"

"Oh thank god I thought it was going to be something deep fried again," Pyunma sighed, "I'm not gonna eat it anyway but still."

"I'm pretty sure Jet will be the only one eating it," Chang agreed, "But I'm going to have to get the ingredients soon, I don't have everything here."

Albert folded his newspaper and put it on the coffee table. "We could do that now, it's not like we're doing anything. And this early in rebuilding Jet's body I doubt the professor will need our help.

Joe leapt on the idea. "I've been thinking. Jet doesn't have any clothes. We're going to have to get him some."

"Oh damn, you're right. Anything of his burned down with the house two years ago," Pyunma said.

"Well," Albert fidgeted, "Not everything. He had a box in storage, but the only thing wearable in it was a pair of slippers and his old AC/DC shirt."

"Then we'll get that for him."

"Uh, thing is, that was the shirt he got at that concert he dragged me to. We stood around forever to get a shirt and by the time he got up to the table they didn't have his size, so he bought something a bit bigger."

"…You've been wearing his shirt, haven't you."

"I waited with him for that damn shirt and it fits. I mean it's kind of snug in the chest but…"

"Is that why you always wear it when Lucy's around?" Chang snickered.

Albert glared.

In the end, just about every cyborg piled into two cars and drove into town. They'd barely finished asking Ivan if he wanted to go when he turned around and glared at them. He hated his car seat and drove nowhere unless absolutely required.

It was apparently too much to ask just to buy a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts for Jet. For one thing, no one could remember what sizes he used. The other problem was Joe himself, who insisted on getting more than just the bare essentials.

"We have to show we care, you guys! Get him some stuff he'd actually want, not just what will do."

"He likes to do his own shopping, Joe," Albert sighed, "and he prefers to do it by himself. I don't even know where he usually bought his clothes."

"You could just give him back his shirt, Heinrich."

"No."

"You don't even like AC/DC."

Pyunma walked up carrying a few jackets and vests. "Did Jet like plaid? I can't remember."

"Only if you're okay with him singing the 'Lumberjack Song' nonstop."

"That's a no, then," he said and hurried away before he got sucked into whatever Joe and Albert were bitching about.

GB was next to pop up, leaning unhappily on a shirt rack. "Unfortunate question, my lads, but was Jet a briefs or boxers man?"

Joe sighed and rubbed at his temples. "Recently, when he had to, boxers."

"When he had to? Don't tell me."

"Commando. Jet had no shame. I think I saw his dick more than my own."

"Sorry I asked. Why didn't you tell us rooming with him was so horrible, Joe?"

"Because then you'd make sure I was stuck with him so you wouldn't have to be."

"Damn straight."

"Look what I found!" Francoise cried, holding up a shirt as though it was the Holy Grail. It was a hideous collared shirt with tiny American flags printed on it.

"Put that in the cart right now. I'm going to go find an ugly tie to go with it," Albert said and ducked away into the racks.

"What about shoes? Anyone know Jet's size?"

"Gilmore makes Jet's shoes so he can fly with them. Don't worry about it."

"I'm getting Jet this cute pink toothbrush and no one can stop me!"

"Those jeans are too loose, Jet likes to show off his ass."

"…Why do you know these things."

"I got him a brush too!"

"I'm pretty sure this is Jet's cologne. It smells like 'I'm trying too hard'."

"Jet doesn't like big sweaters, Franny. He wears jackets."

"Too bad, he's getting a giant woolen sweater. He's going to be adorable."

"Look at this shirt. It's got a little angry eagle on it. I'm getting it for him."

Geronimo tossed a cowboy hat into the cart without a word.

"We're not buying him a whole wardrobe, guys!" Pyunma shouted as he looked at the overflowing cart.

#cyborg 009 #call of justice #nanowrimo #algernon #fanfic #not angst!

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sarscov2imagery · 4 years

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Museum of Covid-19: the story of the crisis told through everyday objects

Lockdown culture

Scrawled signs, neon rainbows, flour mania … the V&A’s collectors are creating a show for our times, targeting the everyday objects taking on new meaning in the coronavirus age

Oliver Wainwright

@ollywainwright

Mon 4 May 2020 06.00 BSTLast modified on Wed 1 Jul 2020 17.32 BST

Before my world was reduced to a two-mile radius from my house, I never realised how interesting other people’s front gardens could be. When your life is confined to the same four walls, with each journey to the kitchen an odyssey, the world outside takes on a whole new allure. I now find myself entranced by all the different varieties of privet hedge, intrigued by people’s choice of gravel size and paving pattern, captivated by the clusters of cacti perched on windowsills. Front doors have become a new form of entertainment, as have the subtleties of window-mouldings and architraves. Who knew there could be so many varieties of mortar on a single street?

There’s nothing like six weeks of house arrest to give you an elevated awareness of your surroundings. And it’s a phenomenon that hasn’t gone unnoticed at the nation’s grand repository of objects, the Victoria and Albert. “The pandemic has this weird way of bringing to the fore objects you would never have thought about,” says Brendan Cormier, senior design curator at the London museum. “Everything becomes heightened.”

With future exhibitions on hold and collecting in limbo, Cormier has turned his team’s attention to thinking about how the coronavirus has reframed the everyday, casting familiar objects in a very different light. Which is why the V&A is just about to launch Pandemic Objects, an online series examining how a range of unremarkable items have become charged with new meaning and purpose.

“There are so many designed objects and inventions coming out of the pandemic,” says Cormier, citing all the hands-free door openers and 3D-printed face visors. “But it’s going to take time to work out which ones are actually useful.” He thinks there’s a danger that some much-touted innovations might end up being “vapourware” – flashy concepts that catch the attention of design blogs, but never come to fruition.

The V&A design department has made headlines with its Rapid Response Collecting, an initiative that has snapped up such zeitgeisty objects as the Liberator 3D-printed handgun, the plans for which were released online in 2013, and one of pink knitted pussyhats worn by half a million attendees at the Women’s March in Washington DC in 2017. But with everything now changing so rapidly, curators have decided there’s some value in slowing down. Instead of rushing out to collect Covid ephemera, Cormier thinks the museum’s time would be better spent looking afresh at what’s right under our noses. “Is the pandemic revealing anything new,” he asks, “about things we take for granted?” One of the first things to catch his attention was the wealth of hastily drawn homemade signs cropping up in shop windows around the world, explaining new delivery services and warning people to keep 2m apart. It seemed to say something about our relationship with technology and public messaging: the 1990s craze for inkjet printers promised everyone the professional finish of a publishing house in the comfort of their own home. Yet, three decades on, most of us seem to have thrown out our printers, sick of clogged-up, eye-wateringly expensive cartridges, and have embraced the paperless society. “In the moment of need, when the situation is changing so rapidly,” says Cormier, “we’ve gone back to pen and paper.”

Putting signs in windows quickly spread to the home, too, as a means of both expressing community solidarity and keeping the kids occupied. Headteachers encouraged pupils to paint hopeful rainbows and stick them in windows, fuelling neighbourly rivalry with evermore elaborate formations, ranging from chalk to neon paint and Lego bricks. It wasn’t long before this homespun movement was co-opted by the art world, with Damien Hirst offering his own butterfly-wing rainbow to download.

Catherine Flood, co-curator of the V&A’s Food exhibition last year, will examine how the pandemic has changed perceptions of certain kitchen-cupboard staples. Flour and yeast, more used to being spilled on surfaces and swept into bins, have become sought-after luxuries, as we all try to channel our inner bakers. Instagram has become the Sourdough Olympics, awash with competitive posts, while flour mills are working around the clock to fulfil demand as wheat prices surge and well-stocked shelves become a rarity.

Traffic to the BBC’s basic bread recipe has risen faster than a cob in a 250-degree oven, with numbers up by 875%. But need does not seem to be what’s driving demand, as bread is still readily available in shops. It’s the therapeutic quality of baking that’s the attraction, Cormier thinks, the tactile and meditative quality of the process, along with a desire to feel self-sufficient.

“Flour is now a privilege,” he says, and he doesn’t just mean being able to find it in shops. “To bake bread, you need to be able to work at home, and have time to invest. It’s probably not frontline key workers who have the pleasure of rediscovering the miracles of baking.”

As research for a potential future exhibition on accessibility in design, curator Natalie Kane has been looking at the door handle – a seemingly innocuous part of the built environment that has become a villain in the age of coronavirus. Since early March, when it was first announced that the virus could survive on surfaces for up to three days, we’ve been elbowing and toeing our way through doors, suddenly aware of just how often we use our hands to navigate through the world. Could the pandemic finally force society to accept what disability groups have been campaigning about for decades – that such things are obstacles rather than aids?

Meanwhile, as travel has been curtailed, the online realm has offered one of the few options for escapism. Some have turned to Google Street View to sate their wanderlust, whiling away hours touring the side streets of far-flung locations or panning through 3D cityscapes. The Canadian artist Jon Rafman has revived his project The Nine Eyes of Google Street View. Begun in 2008 when the medium was still novel, the projects trawls the globe’s virtual streets for alarming scenes – from a moose careering down a highway to a gun-toting gang caught mid-heist, to naked bodies sprawled across the pavement.

Now, these unruly snapshots seem like glimpses of another time, glitches in the lockdown matrix. V&A curator Ella Kilgallon will examine the Street View phenomenon, putting it in the context of such earlier documentary initiatives as the National Photographic Record Association), established in 1897 in an attempt to create a comprehensive record of British life. Taking advantage of the expansion of photography as an increasingly popular hobby at the turn of the century, the association planned to form a countrywide “memory bank” to foster “national pride”. It culminated in 5,883 photographs by 1910. In the last 12 years, Google has captured 10 million miles of the Earth’s surface in 360-degree images, equivalent to circling the planet more than 400 times. Further entries in the Pandemic Objects series will shine a spotlight on toilet paper, streaming services, cardboard packaging, balconies and more, one of the more triumphant stories being the revival of the sewing machine. “Despite all the hype around distributed manufacturing and downloadable customised designs, not many of us have a 3D-printer at home,” says Cormier. “Yet the great 19th-century invention of the sewing machine is still a ubiquitous household item.”

Sales of sewing machines have rocketed in the pandemic, recalling the Make Do and Mend movement of the second world war, as people join the effort to mass-produce face masks. One of the chief obstacles to such community craftivism, says Cormier, is managing production and distribution. After the recent bush fires in Australia, an international callout for people to knit koala mittens and wombat pouches triggered a tidal wave of marsupial mitts, far more than could possibly be used. As thousands of companies and hobbyists have sign up to produce face-shields in the great national struggle for PPE, it remains to be seen how effectively they can be distributed to where they are needed most. Whether it’s a newfound respect for loo roll, a growing suspicion of excessive cardboard packaging, or a phobia of door handles, when the pandemic finally subsides, we may never look at everyday objects in the same way again.

• Pandemic Objects is at vam.ac.uk/blog/

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dcdisabilitypride · 10 months

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Welcome to day five of DC Disability Pride Week!

We forgot to post yesterday’s prompts, so today we’ll be posting both days’ prompts. Additionally, as a reminder, there are no firm deadlines for this event! Feel free to create at your own pace, and we will continue tracking the tag for several weeks after the event.

Yesterday’s theme was pride, and the prompts are “Wholeness” and “Celebration.”

Today’s theme is perseverance, and the prompts are “Adapt, Survive, Thrive” and “Memory/Trauma.”

Make sure to mention us and/or tag your posts with #dcdpw23 so we can find and reblog them! Happy posting!

#dc disability pride #dcdisabilitypride #dc disability pride week #dcdpw #dcdpw23

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elfnerdherder · 7 years

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Dread and Hunger: Prologue

You can read the Prologue on Ao3 Here

Prologue: Syrah

Three Years Before:

Hannibal didn’t often enjoy having to commute to DC –what with the traffic, the rude drivers whose identities he’d never learn, and the utterly impossible FBI he oftentimes consulted with, he would oftentimes not reach his lovely home until the late hours of the night, far too long after a proper dinnertime.

That, and if he did find the time to stop for a relaxing glass of wine, the waiters were just snippy enough that he found himself contemplating the many ways in which their bodies could be carved into a lovely form of art.

All in all, not entirely relaxing for a Tuesday evening. Not when one couldn’t very well murder all of the wait staff of Belle Bleu and get away with it. No, no; if one is going to kill, they have to be patient about the entire ordeal, otherwise they end up like the last gentleman he’d aided the FBI with: Terry Dougan, a clumsy sociopath that cut his way through a Denny’s in a pique of rage after he’d eluded the law for four years and twelve other known bodies.

It truly was a troublesome state of affairs.

“I’m off, Will! We’ve just got that guy in the corner, and two tables just over there. Those guys I just followed up with, they’re fine, and Dr. Lecter is a regular. Just make sure he’s got a good wine, and he’s not too much trouble. Don’t put him out or anything, right?”

“Okay.”

“Remember your eyes, right? Eye contact, dude, eye contact. That’s half of tips. If you want tips, you gotta act like you care.”

“I do care.”

“Show me, don’t tell me, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

“Have a good night, hun!”

Hannibal watched his bumbling waitress grab a bag out from behind the bar before she disappeared down the hall where he assumed a break room lay. She wasn’t entirely too much of a problem for him, unless he asked for a wine she wasn’t familiar with. To compensate for her lack of knowledge, she tended to bluster, and although commendable, it was mostly just annoying.

He glanced to the side where a young man struggled to pin his name tag on straight, and he let out a quiet sigh, unable to help himself. The young ones, while aesthetically pleasing to look at, knew next to nothing. On a day where he felt charitable, he’d help them learn their own menu, but he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable. When the boy, no older than twenty or so, walked over to him with an askew nametag, he took a sip from his bold glass of Syrah to compose himself.

“Good evening, sir,” he said, like Hannibal hadn’t heard his earlier exchange with Cassie. “Cassie is off for the night, but I’m Will, and I’ll be your server for the duration of your stay.”

He had a soft voice, that of an introvert. Hannibal glanced up at him, met eyes that glanced away after not even two seconds, and he hummed lightly.

“Good evening, Will. Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m newer, sir,” he said, “but I’m learning as much as I can. Are you here often?”

“On and off, enough that Cassie has dubbed me a regular.”

Will flushed at that, the embarrassment of realizing they’d spoken too loudly. Hannibal tracked a hand that twitched and drummed noiselessly against his leg, a nervous habit.

“I’m sorry, sir, if we said anything-”

“Not at all, don’t worry. If you like, you can practice your trouble with eye contact on me.”

A not-so-kind dig, but it did make him feel marginally better about his day. Rude, all things considered, but rather than turning a ruddier shade of red, the boy surprised Hannibal when he looked back up from his tie –a pleasant plaid of red, purple, and black –and met his gaze again.

“I’d appreciate it. Practice makes improvement, or so I’ve been told.”

It was the tone change, Hannibal figured much later, that got his attention. The drumming fingers stopped their twitching, and his back stiffened, an impeccable posture from the youthful and disparate slouch before. The uncertain twist of his lips became an almost-smile, much like his own when he’d told a particularly clever joke no one understood, and his tone was that of something sophisticated, someone that knew more than they let on.

Truth be told, it sounded almost like Hannibal had spoken through someone else for the briefest of moments.

“I do enjoy that turn of phrase, moreso than ‘practice makes perfect’. If one is not practicing perfectly, they may only learn poor habits,” Hannibal replied after a beat. He watched with amusement as Will nodded and shifted his weight.

“If I begin a poor habit, Dr. Lecter, please let me know. I’ll adjust accordingly.” He didn’t wait for Hannibal to say anything on the matter. With a half-smile, he continued, “I see you’re drinking a Syrah. We have four different varieties, if you’d like to try another.”

Bemused, Hannibal couldn’t help but reply, “I’ll try another. Pick your favorite.”

Will left him with a curt dip of his head, and Hannibal couldn’t help but follow him with his gaze for most of the night. He brought a marginally better version of what Cassie brought him, and over the lip of it, he observed as the somewhat-new-but-learning Will seemed to become what was necessary with each of his patrons. For the loud, distasteful group, his voice seemed to grow and take on a dry edge of disdain for society as they made conversation. For the girl with an eager disposition and daddy’s money to burn, he chatted aimlessly and validated her need for attention. For the couple in the corner celebrating their anniversary, he gave them space and laughed at their poor attempts at corny jokes. For Hannibal, he only returned to refresh his glass and finalize his bill.

Hannibal tipped nicely. At the bottom of the receipt, he added, Excellent eye contact, Will. Your tag was askew, but it seemed to only add to the charm you displayed to the rest the patrons in the bar. Tell Cassie that her regular wasn’t put out in the least.

He decided to go back next time he visited DC, simply to see if this Will was some sort of charlatan whose social skills were an excellent façade to make more in tips, or if there was something more to him than met the eye. His own shift and borrowing of Hannibal’s persona made it difficult to decide which was the truth.

He was no charlatan, Hannibal realized. It was something so much more interesting than that.

A new client whose disability gave him weekly, necessary trips to DC took him back to Belle Bleu on a Thursday, and he lingered in order to avoid the six o’clock rush hour and traffic jams. A recent art piece of his design left him with the sort of buzz and tingle in his veins that made him more than happy with the turn of events of the week, and he perused the articles on his tablet with genuine pride.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, and Hannibal looked up from a particularly gruesome photo of his work in order to meet Will’s eyes. He didn’t quite catch his gaze that time; there was a lull in his aura, and the smell of lab chemicals on his skin that suggested he’d been hard at work elsewhere that worked with iodine and silver nitrate.

“Good afternoon, Will. You appear tired.”

There was a fumbling of words as he seemed taken aback by the blunt observation, and he swallowed thickly. To lie or to acknowledge? Indecision warred in his eyes for the briefest of moments.

“It won’t stop me from giving good service, don’t worry,” he assured Hannibal. It was a good reply, professional and distanced.

“Are you in school?”

“Yes, at GWU.” He lifted his small receipt pad as though it were a shield, and he cleared his throat. “What are you in the mood for today?”

“You informed me just this past visit that you had other options for a Syrah. I should like to try another today.”

“Would you like food with it?”

“Oh, no. I tend to prefer cooking my own food.”

Will nodded and jotted his order down. It was as he was turning to leave, though, that his eyes whose stare was fast avoiding Hannibal’s intent gaze caught the tablet, instead. At the sight of the gruesome photo, he stilled, foot struggling for a step before it came down a little too hard on the floor.

Hannibal looked down to the photo of the body, splayed out and impaled with far too many blunt instruments, and he couldn’t help the buzz of pleasure that lit his veins on fire. The Wound Man was one of his favorite medical photos from centuries before, a lovely version of the many wounds and injuries one could sustain during the medieval era. When he looked up at Will again, he was surprised to see a twisted, uncertain expression on his face, something half-pained and half-afraid.

“Had you seen the news?” Hannibal asked. “It appears the Chesapeake Ripper struck again.”

Rather than mention something about how disgusting or terrifying the Ripper was, Will nodded slowly, uncertain. “The Wound Man.” A pause as he licked his lips. “He was found in his shop.”

Perhaps it was something in the way his mouth twisted, but Hannibal couldn’t help but press, “I’m sure they want you to take safety precautions at GWU.”

“They say to travel in groups,” Will said, tone not so much derisive as it was dry.

“You don’t think there is safety in numbers?”

“Sooner or later, you’re alone,” he replied. “And if he’s eluded the FBI for this long, one can assume he would simply wait for the right moment. Patiently.”

“You think he’s a patient man,” Hannibal clarified, pleased. Will wasn’t wrong.

“I think he doesn’t like the name Chesapeake Ripper,” said Will.

“Oh?”

“His work is refined enough, I think, that something as easily made as Chesapeake Ripper would be offensive. Yes, he has a name, but names have power, and they gave him one that even a two-bit hack could make with a finger of whiskey and a little bit of ingenuity.”

His eyes didn’t move from the photo as he spoke. There was a certain sort of hunger in them, something that made Hannibal shift in his chair, to better see into his eyes.

“What name would you give him, if you were the one to create it?” he asked curiously.

“…My friend Beverly wanted to call him ‘Vlad the Impaler’,” Will replied. He licked dry lips, cleared his throat. “I don’t…I’m not one that thinks much on names and things like that.”

“You don’t?”

“…No,” he said, sounding much more like a ‘yes’.

It wasn’t until the page reloaded, reconnecting to the network, that whatever spell it’d woven on him broke. He gave a quick start, then fumbled with his pad and strode away quickly, leaving Hannibal with a heart pounding oddly in his chest.

He was left with a glass of wine, and Will busied himself with cleaning up the bar, washing glasses from a loud and obnoxious crowd of persons. The longer Will worked with them, the more drawn he seemed to become, their emotions bleeding into him with such a force that Hannibal could almost smell the exhaustion wafting off of him. He continued to peruse articles about himself, but there was a stab of bitterness every time his eyes roamed over the name. Chesapeake Ripper. Will wasn’t wrong with that sort of observation, although how he’d come to such a thought process was curious, to say the least. One as young as he seemed to be didn’t stare at a photo of The Wound Man and simply know such things.

No, not a charismatic charlatan. Something more. Something…better.

There was a quick, sharp sound of shattering glass that cut through an otherwise white noise of churning water from the sink behind the bar and the classical arrangement from the speakers overhead. It was enough that Hannibal looked up from his tablet, and in doing so, he was privy to something absolute marvelous. It wasn’t quite extraordinary in of itself, all things considered, but it was the reaction that made Hannibal pause in order to better look, to better understand.

“Shit,” Will muttered, but that didn’t seem quite like what he wanted to say. Held aloft in the glow of the ambient light in Belle Bleu, Will’s hand ran with blood pink from soapy water. The blood didn’t concern Hannibal; at least, not as much as the shards of glass that jutted out in a haphazard way in Will’s skin did. He thought to walk over and see just how bad the damage was, but as he stood up, the surprise on the bartender’s face faded, shifting from a natural, instinctual reaction to something with a hint of curiosity, of excitement.

Any other person would have either screamed, cried, or hurriedly tugged pieces of glass from their hand in an effort to silence the nerves just underneath their skin that complained. Instead, the peculiar expression seemed to darken as the boy turned his hand about and studied the mess, an almost clinical aspect to the way he pursed his lips and slid a finger from his uninjured hand along a particularly savage piece. Hunger was the expression, Hannibal decided, but the sort of hunger that made the room seem too small, that made chatter fall to a stop.

Hannibal, unable to help himself, licked his lips.

“Oh my god, Will!” a waitress exclaimed, and Will looked up. Unlike before, where he’d seemed to snap out of himself and become himself again –rather, the self he seemed to project –Will also licked his lips, mouth too tight against his teeth.

“Just a scratch,” he murmured, and the girl dragged him away, calling for someone in the back to grab a first aid kit. If either worker noticed Hannibal standing like a fool beside his table, they gave no indication. He sat down, fingertips gliding around the rim of an empty glass.

He decided that he, too, was hungry. So dreadfully, dreadfully hungry.

Will returned seven minutes later with a bandaged hand and dilated pupils. Hannibal tracked each twitch of his muscles, each flutter of lashes as he looked down at his pad and finalized the bill.

“Are they sending you to a hospital due to the blood loss, or are you about to leave because customers complained about the inconvenience?” Hannibal asked, withdrawing cash from his wallet.

“I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable, Dr. Lecter,” Will replied, not looking up.

“That wasn’t quite an answer.”

“That’s not really a fair question.” Will paused, a grimace about his lips as he realized just what he’d said. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well. It looks like I need stitches.”

“Yet you came to finalize my bill for me.”

“…Yes.”

“I admire the dedication to finishing what you start.” Among other things. “You must have a rather high pain tolerance. You don’t seem too troubled by your injury.”

Will nodded, an awkward jerk to his head. “I’ll be alright.”

“Keep the change, Will. Go and see a medical doctor.”

As he was walking out, Will intercepted him, messenger bag across on shoulder, hand cradled to his chest. Blood seeped through the bandage already, but he didn’t seem interested in it, as though it were no trouble to him.

“If I were to name the Chesapeake Ripper, Dr. Lecter, I’d call him Shesmu,” he said.

“Shesmu?”

“He was the Egyptian Lord of Blood, known as He Who Dismembers Bodies,” Will continued. “I think…if I were to name someone like that, that’s what I’d refer to him by.”

“You would lift him to a godhood, Will?”

Will didn’t hesitate. “I think that…someone like that would find it funny. Someone that kills people like that already thinks of themselves as a god, choosing who lives and who dies. They would be amused at the comparison and pleased at the historical ties.”

He walked away before Hannibal could reply, head dipped and pupils impossibly large. Hannibal couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he tucked his hands into his pockets and saw himself out of Belle Bleu, and when he saw a news report later on the television discussing the mind of the Chesapeake Ripper, he found himself smiling even wider.

One Year Before:

“Someone call the cops!”

“Oh my god, I think he’s going to kill him!”

“Dude, get back!”

“Fuck you, I-”

“Will, what are you doing?”

It was the name that pulled Lecter from his observations. Comfortably unharmed beside his vehicle, he watched two college-aged boys rip into one another, fists flying and blood staining two perfectly good work shirts. Well, not perfect –Hannibal noted a low thread count and a messy seam as one of the men went flying and landed nearby, hard.

He looked up at the sound of the name, though, and spied Will just across the parking lot. Looking at him gave Hannibal the same sense of purpose that he always felt whenever he saw him: an odd hunger, a sort of drive that made his blood run just a little faster, his heart beat just a little harder.

A girl beside him seemed to be doing her best to stop him from whatever it was that he was doing. Beside Hannibal, one of the assailants leapt onto the other he’d thrown to the ground, and punches flew, landing haphazardly in the man’s fury. Hannibal wasn’t too concerned with it, though, if he was being honest. People fought, and the two weren’t dangerous enough to do real damage to one another just yet.

No, no, he was more interested in the way Will Graham seemed almost excited to join them.

“Sorry, I…what?” Will didn’t look away from the fight as he spoke to the Asian woman beside him. His breath came short, and there was a wildness about his face as he took another step closer, closer. At a particularly vicious curse beside Hannibal, Will’s breath caught, and his hands curled to fists at his sides.

“Dude, don’t stop them, you’ll get hurt!” She grabbed his shoulder, and that seemed to snap him out of his daze. He looked from the fighting to her, then seemed to realize someone else was watching. His eyes flicked up, then around the crowd that watched with rapt horror, then found Hannibal’s stare just across the way.

Hannibal, unable to help himself, smiled.

Then, with practiced finesse, he shifted around the onlookers and leaned down, hauling up the main assailant by the back of the neck, dragging him away from the other that laid sprawled on the asphalt, coughing and spitting up blood.

“Get the fuck off of me!” the man spluttered, attempting to swing around and hit Hannibal. He’d had enough fight from victims to easily dodge it, though, and he smiled, side-stepping around him.

“Be reasonable. The police are almost here, and you don’t want two charges of assault against you,” he said. His grip tightened on the back of the man’s collar, and he pushed him against a car, leveraging his weight against his back with ease. “If it will make you feel better to hear, he still hasn’t gotten up. You’ve won.”

It probably wouldn’t feel like he’d won, given the usual jail time given for things like this. When the police arrived, they relieved Hannibal of his burden, then left him with paperwork and a slew of questions that made it seem almost not-worth the effort to step in and help.

Will was his waiter, though, so that made it marginally better.

“How are you doing this evening, Will?”

“Are you used to breaking up brawls?” he asked rather than answer. There was an anxious buzz about his skin, something smacking of bad decisions and bar fights. Rather than bother with a pen and pad, he kept his hands free, drumming against his leg with nervous energy.

“In my spare time, I try to keep things interesting. It was better me than you, though.”

“What?” That stopped his tapping. He looked up from the tablecloth, really looked at Hannibal, and whatever it was that he saw made his breath catch.

“You looked as though you were going to try and stop the fight.”

“…I wanted to help,” he managed.

Hannibal, a skilled liar, knew them as well as he knew himself. He smiled politely, nodded. “Yes, but the difference being that you would have been fired, and I would have been thanked. Most restaurants have a policy about their staff not stepping in to stop violence due to potential lawsuits.”

“They do,” Will agreed.

“Therefore, better me than you.”

Whatever Will had been expecting to hear from him, that wasn’t it. He nodded all the same, hitched his pant leg up idly, and ducked his head, breaking eye contact once more.

“Well, thank you, Dr. Lecter. This job pays for school.”

“That’s what you’d mentioned, yes. I’d hate for there to be complications in that.”

He ordered a Syrah, since he was feeling rather nostalgic. As Will walked about, almost in a dream-like state as customers hashed and re-hashed the events outside, Hannibal wondered just what it’d take to make someone like Will Graham unable to stop from joining in the next time –how hard would one have to push to make him snap?

Something to table for the time being, he supposed. He did have school to think about, after all.

Present Day, Belle Bleu:

Hannibal knew something was wrong the moment Will walked back towards the bar in his regular clothes. There was something in the way his shoulders tilted, the way his mouth curled down. Time had given Hannibal the ability to see each and every twitch of his person, know them for what they were. His general profession had given him the tools to explain the why behind the how.

“You out of here?” Bryan asked. Will glanced at him and nodded, unplugging his phone from a charger behind the bar.

“Yeah.” His eyes were shuttered, expression shutting down. Will didn’t share his feelings well with his co-workers.

“Was he an ass about it, or did he tell you why?” Bryan pressed. As close as he was to the bar, Hannibal heard every inflection, and an odd knot formed in his gut at the realization of what he was hearing.

“It was pretty professional,” Will said, shrugging. He tossed a cherry into his mouth, feigned nonchalance.

“That’s super shitty, man. Teresa over there hasn’t checked up on her people in over twenty minutes, but she’s been getting the best tables for over two weeks,” Bryan groused, and Will laughed bitterly.

“She can have them…I’ll find a new job.”

“Did you hear the cooks talking? They all knew about it before you even got here.”

“It’s fine, I’m just…” Will gestured towards the phone, then glanced about, always conscious of people nearby that could overhear. Hannibal tried to pretend that he wasn’t listening, but the more they spoke, the tighter the knot in his gut grew, twisted and wrenched about.

“Do you have an idea of a new job?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Will assured him. He walked around the bar to leave, leave because he’d been fired, and the idea was just enough that it made Hannibal call out to him.

“Were you let go, Will?” Will looked over to him, gaze pausing just at the knee of his trousers.

“Sorry that you had to hear that,” he said awkwardly.

“On the contrary, I’m sad to see you go,” Hannibal replied, and he lifted his glass of wine, taking a small sip of it. “Who will recommend such fine wines or inform me when something new has arrived?”

“Bryan trained me, so he’ll know just as much as I do, if not more, Dr. Lecter,” Will promised

“I will have to rely upon your word of his expertise, then,” he said, and his gaze flickered from toe to head, eyes settling on his face. He didn’t make eye contact with Hannibal, fixated as he was on the stem of the wine glass. “Will you be looking for another job, then? One without the strains of…social obligations?”

“That’s what was recommended,” Will said wryly, and Hannibal laughed.

“I’d imagine it’s difficult for someone going to school to find such a job. The foundation of the customer service industry was forged by students such as yourself, as they’re the only ones to tolerate the sometimes taxing needs of the general population.”

“We do our best,” he said.

“Will you be able to find one soon? You’d mentioned paying for classes out of pocket.” Will nodded, fingers tapping lazily on the leg of his trousers. A nervous tic, one bred from the worry of no longer having a job. The knot in his gut tightened, twisted.

“I’ll be able to manage, Dr. Lecter, don’t you worry about me.”

“Perhaps it is the occupation, but it is in my job description to worry,” Hannibal replied, smiling.

“Well I’m not your patient,” Will replied. From anyone else, it would sound rude, dismissive. From Will, it sounded like his own blunt form of attempting to convince Hannibal not to worry, that everything would be quite alright without him.

How very wrong he was, though.

“That’s true,” he agreed, and his smile grew somewhat. “Well, if you attain such a job where you work in a place much like this, do let me know. I am particular about just who pours my drink, and you’ve never disappointed.” It was an innocent enough statement, all things considered. It was said with such a turn to the words, though, that Will looked up at him, met his eyes, and as they stared at one another, his pupils dilated.

“Thank you, Dr. Lecter,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I’m sure if you inform your acquaintance, Bryan, he’ll pass along the message,” Hannibal added, lips curling.

“I’ll…be sure to do that,” Will assured him.

“Please do.” He turned to his wine and swirled it gently. A dismissal, and Will picked up on the cues of it without thought.

That was what made him so special, though, wasn’t it? He was a person that saw without seeing, that knew without knowing?

He finished his drink, and he lingered for a while at his table, thinking. Hannibal often lost himself to his thoughts, his mind palace filled with many doors and halls and dark things that took thoughts and ran with them, making them something great, something grand. His thoughts were particularly unpleasant, though, as he ruminated on a singular problem:

Will Graham had been fired. He wouldn’t see Will Graham anymore.

That was a troublesome turn of events, indeed.

The knot tightened; tightened as he finally left, tightened as he made dinner and ate alone, tightened as he brushed his teeth and changed into silk pajamas, tightened as he lay in bed and attempting to focus on slow breathing so that he could sleep.

When sleep refused to come, he sighed, changed into one of his few pairs of denim pants and a basic t-shirt, and he went for a drive.

Where that drive took him wasn’t anyone’s particular business, but he did find it odd that colleges were so open about the living arrangements of their students –why post their private information online for just anyone to find?

Still, as he stood outside of Will Graham’s apartment, he supposed it made things far easier for him. There wasn’t much in the way of detective work for him, which was nice, and the lock to the door was picked with relative ease.

Since he couldn’t see Will Graham anymore, it made sense that he would simply have to elevate him to a place where he would forever be able to access him.

He passed through a living room, the air cool on his skin, past a dining room table whose sole occupants were an empty TV dinner tray and cardboard from a Digiorno. Gloved fingertips grazed the wall along the hall, and feet paused just outside of his bedroom door. The knot tightened, twisted, and as Hannibal eased the door open, he wondered just what sort of things someone like Will Graham dreamed of.

Such a thought would have to pause, though, since Will Graham wasn’t in his bed at 2:00 in the morning.

A quick scan of the small apartment told him that no, he wasn’t anywhere within, and with a curt sigh of utmost disappointment, he saw himself out, turning the bottom lock behind him as he went.

As he headed to his car, he reasoned that it only made sense he wouldn’t find him. Someone like Will Graham wouldn’t take termination easily, and as a college student he had access to more than enough cheap beer, cheap bars, and cheap friends to aid him in drowning his sorrows. The thought didn’t sit quite right, though. He didn’t think Will was the type to have many friends, let alone cheap ones.

And sure enough, as he sat outside and waited, ever-so-patiently, within twenty minutes Will was dropped off by a not-so-cheap friend who helped him stumble from her car, drunk. Underneath the glow of the lamplight, Hannibal studied him move about, trip over himself, and fall into her with a low laugh that eased from him, smooth as molasses.

“You drank too much,” she admonished, propping him up. “You shouldn’t have let Margot goad you like that.”

“Margot loves to compete,” he said, waving a hand as he headed towards the apartment stairs. “So when I see her, I love to compete, too.”

“Oh, Will,” she sighed like she knew his burdens.

“I’m feeling a little irresponsible, Alana,” he said by way of apology. “Prob’ly best if I sleep.”

“Yes, probably,” she agreed with a laugh. “Do you have your key?”

“Do I have my key,” he scoffed, and he produced it as they made their way up the stairs. Their voices faded, falling away the farther they walked.

Hannibal waited until the Alana was gone before he also saw himself to his own home, thinking.

Perhaps he wouldn’t elevate him, but instead he could help him Become.

The thought sat rather nicely with him; it helped feed the hunger that curled and twisted inside of him.

And what did Hannibal know of hunger, of the thing that crept deep and nestled far inside?

It needed to be fed.

#The end #LiaS scribbles #Dread and Hunger #hannigram #the beginning of the end #hannibal #hannibal fanfic #hannibal x will graham #someone help will graham #he's found an admirer

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dariusblogpl · 5 years

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Nominację do nagród GLAAD Media Award

LGBTQ, organizacja GLAAD, ogłosiła nominacje do 30. dorocznej nagród GLAAD Media Awards.

Outstanding Film – Wide Release (film):

Blockers (Universal)

Crazy Rich Asians (Warner Bros.)

Deadpool 2 (20th Century Fox)

The Girl in the Spider’s Web (Sony Pictures)

Love, Simon (20th Century Fox)

Outstanding Film – Limited Release (film):

1985 (Wolfe Releasing)

Boy Erased (Focus Features)

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (Fox Searchlight)

Disobedience (Bleecker Street)

The Favourite (Fox Searchlight)

Hearts Beat Loud (Gunpowder & Sky)

A Kid Like Jake (IFC Films)

The Miseducation of Cameron Post (FilmRise)

Saturday Church (Samuel Goldwyn Films)

We the Animals (The Orchard)

Outstanding Drama Series (serial):

Billions (Showtime - w Polsce TVN7)

Black Lightning (The CW - w Polsce brak)

Grey’s Anatomy (ABC - kanał Fox Polska)

The Handmaid’s Tale - Opowieść podręcznej (Hulu w Polsce HBO)

Instinct (CBS)

Pose (FX)

Shadowhunters (Freeform w Polsce Netflix)

Star (Fox)

Supergirl (The CW w Polsce Netflix)

Wynonna Earp (Syfy)

Outstanding Comedy Series (serial komediowy)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (FOX - obecnie należy do NBC)

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (The CW)

Dear White People (Netflix)

Modern Family (ABC w Polsce Fox Comedy/HBO)

One Day at a Time (Netflix)

Schitt’s Creek (Pop)

Superstore (NBC)

This Close (Sundance Now)

Vida (Starz)

Will i Grace (NBC w Polsce Fox Comedy)

Znakomity indywidualny odcinek (w serialu bez regularnej postaci LGBTQ):

“King in the North” Fresh Off the Boat - Przepis na amerykański sen (ABC w Polsce Comedy Central)

“Prom” Fuller House (Netflix)

“Service” Law Order: Special Victims Unit (NBC)

“She” The Good Doctor (ABC w Polsce TVP2)

“Someplace Other Than Here” The Guest Book (TBS)

Znakomity film telewizyjny lub serial:

American Horror Story: Apocalypse (FX w Polsce Fox Polska)

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX w Polsce Fox Polska)

Life-Size 2 (Freeform)

Sense8 (Netflix)

A Very English Scandal - Skandal w angielskim stylu (Amazon Prime w Polsce HBO)

Najlepszy Dokument:

Believer (HBO USA)

Call Her Ganda (Breaking Glass Pictures)

My House (Viceland)

Quiet Heroes (Logo)

When the Beat Drops (Logo)

Programy dla dzieci/młodzieży:

Adventure Time (Cartoon Network)

Andi Mack (The Disney Channel)

Anne with an E (Netflix)

She-Ra (Netflix)

Steven Universe (Cartoon Network)

Reality Program:

American Idol (ABC)

I Am Jazz (TLC w Polsce Discovery Life)

Love & Hip Hop (VH1)

Queer Eye (Netflix)

RuPaul’s Drag Race (VH1 w Polsce Netflix)

Wykonawca muzyczny:

Brandi Carlile, By the Way, I Forgive You (Low Country Sound/Elektra)

Brockhampton, Iridescence (RCA)

Christine and the Queens, Chris (Because Music)

Hayley Kiyoko, Expectations (Atlantic)

Janelle Monáe, Dirty Computer (Bad Boy Records)

Kim Petras, Turn Off the Light, Vol. 1 (BunHead)

Shea Diamond, Seen It All (Asylum Worldwide)

Sophie, Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides (Future Classics)

Troye Sivan, Bloom (Capitol Records)

Years & Years, Palo Santo (Polydor)

Komiksy:

Batwoman, written by Marguerite Bennett, K. Perkins (DC Comics)

Bingo Love, written by Tee Franklin (Image Comics)

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles, written by Mark Russell (DC Comics)

Fence, written by C.S. Pacat (BOOM! Studios)

Iceman, written by Sina Grace (Marvel Comics)

Lumberjanes: The Infernal Compass, written by Lilah Sturges (BOOM! Studios)

Oh S#!t It’s Kim & Kim, written by Magdalene Visaggio (Black Mask Comics)

Runaways, written by Rainbow Rowell (Marvel Comics)

Star Wars: Doctor Aphra, written by Kieron Gillen, Simon Spurrier (Marvel Comics)

Strangers in Paradise XXV, written by Terry Moore (Abstract Studio)

Najlepsza gra wideo:

Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey (Ubisoft)

The Elder Scrolls Online: Summerset (Bethesda Softworks)

Guild Wars 2: Path of Fire (ArenaNet)

Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire (Versus Evil)

The Sims Mobile (Electronic Arts)

Najlepszy odcinek talk show:

“Mike Pence and ‘A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo’” Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (HBO)

“NRA Problems, Chicken Bone Problems, Birmingham Problems” Wyatt Cenac’s Problem Areas (HBO)

“Trans Rights Under Attack” Full Frontal with Samantha Bee (TBS)

“Troye Sivan Hopes ‘Boy Erased’ Reaches All Parents” The Late Show with Stephen Colbert (CBS)

“Valedictorian Seth Owen” The Ellen DeGeneres Show

Wybitne dziennikarstwo telewizyjne informacyjne:

“Conversion Therapy: God Only Knows” CBS Sunday Morning (CBS)

“Gender: The Space Between” CBS News (CBS)

“Legacy of Hope” Nightline (ABC)

“Respect” SC Featured (ESPN)

“South Texas Pride” [series] KSAT News (KSAT-TV [San Antonio, Texas])

Najlepsze dziennikarstwa telewizyjnego:

“Historic Number of LGBTQ Candidates on Ballots This Year” NBC Nightly News (NBC)

“Mississippi Town Denies Pride Parade” Vice News Tonight (HBO)

“Olympian Adam Rippon” New Day (CNN)

“Same-sex Couple Reacts to Supreme Court Ruling” CNN Tonight with Don Lemon (CNN)

“Trump: ‘Looking Very Seriously’ at Changing Transgender Definition” Velshi Ruhle (MSNBC)

Najlepszy artykuł w prasie:

“He Took a Drug to Prevent AIDS. Then He Couldn’t Get Disability Insurance.” by Donald G. McNeil Jr. (The New York Times)

“LGBTQ Parents Challenge Stereotypes in China” by Sue-Lin Wong, Jason Lee (Reuters)

“‘More Than Fear’: Brazil’s LGBT Community Dreads Looming Bolsonaro Presidency” by Marina Lopes (The Washington Post)

“Pistons’ Reggie Bullock to Transgender Community: ‘I see y’all as people that I love’” by Malika Andrews (Chicago Tribune)

“Transgender Students Asked Betsy DeVos for Help. Here’s What Happened.” by Caitlin Emma (Politico)

Najlepszy artykuł w czasopiśmie:

“21 Transgender Stars, Creators Sound Off on Hollywood: ‘I Want to Portray These Characters, I’m Ready’” - Chris Gardner, Rebecca Sun, Lindsay Weinberg, Joelle Goldstein, Bryan White (The Hollywood Reporter)

“Can a Transgender Woman Get Justice in Texas?” - Nate Blakeslee (Texas Monthly)

“Ex-Scientologist Michelle LeClair Says Church Officials Humiliated Her After She Came Out as Gay” - Johnny Dodd, Tierney McAfee (People)

“Lena Waithe is Changing the Game” - Jacqueline Woodson (Vanity Fair)

“They are the Champions” by Katie Barnes (ESPN The Magazine)

Najlepszy krajowy magazyn prasowy:

Billboard

Ebony

Entertainment Weekly

Variety

Najlepszy artykuł internetowy:

“Across U.S., LGBTQ Christians Try to Change Hearts and Minds From the Pews” - Julie Compton (NBCNews.com)

“Bermuda Same-sex Marriage Ban Means Trouble for Tourism and Cruise Ships” - Ryan Ruggiero (CNBC.com)

“Deadnamed” - Lucas Waldron, Ken Schwencke (ProPublica.org)

“LGBTQ Caravan Migrants Marry While Waiting for Asylum in Tijuana” - Sarah Kinosian (INTOmore.com)

“Workplaces Need to Prepare for the Non-Binary Future” - Samantha Allen (TheDailyBeast.com)

Najlepszy artykuł lub reportaż internetowy:

“I Was Jailed for Raising the Pride Flag in Egypt” - Amro Helmy (Buzzfeed Video)

“The Latinx Drag Queens Spearheading HIV Activism on the Border” - Paola Ramos (Vice.com)

“March for Our Lives and LGBT activism: ‘They’re definitely linked for me,’ says Emma González” - Beth Greenfield (Yahoo! Lifestyle)

“Marielle and Monica: The LGBT Activists Resisting Bolsonaro’s Brazil” - Fabio Erdos, Marina Costa, Charlie Phillips, Jacqueline Edenbrow (TheGuardian.com)

“Trans Model Aaron Philip is Making a Space for Disabilities on the Runway” (NowThis)

Najlepszy Blog

Gays With Kids

Holy Bullies and Headless Monsters

My Fabulous Disease

Pittsburgh Lesbian Correspondents

TransGriot

Specjalne uznanie dla:

Nanette (Netflix)

TransMilitary (Logo)

#glaad awards

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hgihrepaeryster · 7 years

Text

Will’s Backstory

My dad is kinda loaded. Working in the weapons industry will do that for you. I honestly don’t know that much about Mom; she and Dad divorced when I was three, and I don’t get to see her much.

Dad and I moved to just outside the Tremorton area not long after my 15th birthday. Since Dad’s line of business hinged so much on planetary protection, he wanted to figure out why so much was happening around such a dinky little town. It wasn’t a capitol, nor was it a major industry town or military area, but alien attacks and supervillain appearances were more than fifty times the global average. He was surprised the place was still standing when we showed up, let alone thriving, but that was why he was there.

Our house, like all our houses, was huge; that was to my father’s taste, not mine. The biggest surprise about it, though, was that Dad had a safe room of his design installed near the center of the house for us to use in case an incident happened. It wasn’t that big - only just enough for my father and me - but it had everything we could possibly need for a whole two weeks, from food to water to a tiny bathroom area. He taught me every single detail of how to survive any sort of situation, and did his best to comfort my anxieties. “Those walls can withstand a point-blank blast from an ion cannon.” He said, with his usual grin of pride in his creations. “I was there when they tested it.”

Like the rest of my life, I had to take care of myself 90% of the time. Dad was off somewhere constantly: attending weapons technology demonstrations; grilling his employees to work harder on the next prototype; or reading through the legal paperwork of his latest contract. The money was only half of it, though; he cared about me - still does - and wanted to make sure I lived a comfortable life. (It’s his way of trying to make up for not understanding the way I feel about myself.) So when the call came that he had to attend a convention in Washington, DC, I wasn’t surprised. Saddened, maybe: I’ve grown tired of being alone so much, but I don’t know how to go about fixing it half the time.

He’d been gone for a day and a half when the news reports started to hit, and that’s the first time I’d ever heard of the Cluster. I watched in utter disbelief as the events unfolded on the TV, and then slowly moved to the window. The sky above Tremorton was blotted out by swarms of what I now know are Cluster drones, massing like clouds of gnats around lampposts at night. Giant dropships shaped like hornets appeared out of portals, and began to eject more drones into the air, along with larger fighter ships. I watched the laser fire burst down onto the city below, and then the formations of vessels began to spread over a wider area. I panicked and ran to the safe room as quickly as I could, locking the door solidly behind me. I felt ashamed of myself for running and hiding, but it didn't help the fear go away; it was sixteen hours before I could do anything other than curl up into a ball.

By myself there was a bit more space but it only made me feel so alone, being encapsulated from the world in a steel box, which was a bad time to realize that there was no way to reach anyone outside either. There was an alarm system that let emergency services know I was locked up, but they were so busy dealing with the rest of the invasion I knew it would be a while before anyone showed, if at all. There was enough food for me and Dad to last for two weeks, which meant I had four weeks worth for me in this situation. Still, I rationed it very carefully; there's no telling how long you're going to have to deal with this situation.

The only real form of communication was a radio receiver tuned in to the emergency frequencies. They were all abuzz with reports of the devastation that was being laid upon Tremorton, with Cluster drones taking humans as captives and destroying all sorts of public landmarks. I figured it was only a matter of time before they came for me, especially when the radio cut off one day in the middle of a transmission and was replaced with Cluster propaganda.

“Your freedom is a plague upon the universe. We are here to set it right. Comply with all orders and you will be spared. Any information regarding the location of subject XJ-9 will be rewarded; any subject caught aiding her will be terminated on sight.”

It was several days before the radio surged back to life again; the announcer was incredibly excited, the first positive emotion I'd experienced since this whole thing began. "She's back!" He announced. "XJ-9 is here to save the day!" I still had no idea what XJ-9 was, but I didn't care; if it meant an end to this invasion I was all for it.

No sooner did the announcement air, however, than the action began to increase violently outside. I could barely hear the blasts; instead, I was starting to feel them. As though someone was slamming a giant sledgehammer against the wall, begging to be let in. I began to worry about some sort of breach, even though I knew it should be impossible. Shattering a pane of glass, I retrieved my father's laser rifle: one of his developments from working with Skyway Patrol. My hands were quivering and my pulse racing as I aimed it at the entrance to the room. I expected to be swarmed by drones any minute.

Everything shook very violently for a moment and then - in a surreal moment - started to fly around, as though the room had somehow gone to space for a moment. Almost as soon as that happened, it stopped, and I was sent into a wall. I was barely able to bring up my arms to protect my head before impact; it hurt like hell, but it didn't seem to do any lasting damage. Everything had come to rest upon the same wall, so it was clear that the room itself had been toppled over somehow. There's nothing safe about this safe room anymore, I thought. Crawling my way over to the door, I found enough strength to unlock and push it open.

The house that used to surround me was now almost completely gone, and in its place was a pile of burning lumber, concrete, and what used to be furniture. The safe room - formerly on the first floor - was now in the basement area. As I rolled out of the room, I saw what had caused the destruction: a crashed Cluster fighter ship, smoldering in defeat. It was laying halfway into the cellar space, its rear end poking out above the ground. The sounds of combat continued in the distance without it.

A new sound drowned out all others, and I only had enough time to see the creaking and cracking of the beams above me to realize I should have stayed in the room. A large portion of the house collapsed over me, and I closed my eyes so that I didn't have to watch my own fiery death coming down. While I did feel an impact, it wasn't strong enough to hurt me; when I opened my eyes, I found myself pinned beneath a large concrete slab over my chest. The only thing that saved me from getting instantaneously crushed was the spaceship, which was close enough to soften the impact, yet there wasn't enough room to escape. More of the house was crumbling away around me, embers almost landing close enough to singe me. Even more terrifying was that the slab was slowly starting to slip off of the ship, putting more pressure against my ribs as the seconds passed by. I could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone call for help. All that escaped my mouth was a pleading whimper that couldn't have possibly been heard by anyone.

After the most terrifying few seconds of my life, I heard a sudden roar of jet engines closing in on my position. In the sky outside, I spotted a streak of blue and white come nearer and nearer until it had landed next to me. That's the first time I saw her.

She was unlike anything or anyone I'd ever seen before, her six-foot-plus stature towering over me as she touched down. Before I could even notice them, she spun around and gave a couple quick blasts of a laser gun - wait, was that her arm?! - at a swarm of Cluster drones that were pursuing her. They all burst into scrap metal, peppering the environment with their remains. She looked at the ship that had crashed into my house, likely to make sure it had been disabled, before quickly taking notice of me. Her pigtails, which moments ago had been rocket thrusters, perked up in shock, and she covered her mouth with a hand as she gasped.

"H-help..." I whispered, not able to do much more. My ribs were really beginning to hurt.

In response, she rammed a single arm beneath the concrete and flipped it over with one fell swoop. I took a relieved breath of fresh air, and the sigh of relief turned into a cough. Her eyes seemed to scan me for a moment before she spoke.

"No broken bones...no ruptured organs...the worst you have is a nasty scrape on your arm. No biggie!" I hadn't even noticed, but when I raised my right arm to see the damage, the robot girl had already turned one of her own into a tube and plunged the injured limb inside. Whatever was in there must have been amazing, because the whole arm felt numb and started to heal before my eyes. What was once a deep laceration that would have probably taken twenty or so stitches to heal was gone in a matter of seconds. My eyes widened at the sight, but my chest was still so sore that I could barely utter one word - "How-" - before coughing again.

"What's important now is to get you out of here." She replied, picking me up. "You're going to be okay now. I've beaten them all back." I heard all sorts of mechanical adjustments as she converted herself into some sort of jet-robot; she was soon lifting off of the ground, and I watched in disbelief as the house my parents had spent several million on continued to fall apart into dust behind us. All of the town was below us, with several other buildings turned into smoking debris. The only thing I could do was look at this robot - this hero - that just saved me, as she concentrated on her destination: the Tremorton High football field, which had been converted to an emergency medical center.

She touched down as gently as a feather and laid me down on a cot outside a tent. She told the doctors she'd get as many more as she could, and then turned to me, placing a calming hand against my heart.

"You'll be feeling better in no time." She said with the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. I nodded, but before I could say another word, she was gone.

------

My father came back a few hours later. He'd been worried sick ever since he saw the spaceship crash on the news, and he came straight home afterward. It was a tearful reunion, but considering the fact that it could have gone a whole lot worse, it was still a happy one.

The longer the conversation went on, though, and the more I told him about what happened, the more he seemed to change. He went from relief to resignment to a subtle, underlying anger the more I said. I don’t know what it was, but at the end he just got up and took a deep breath, as though holding himself back. We were about to talk about living arrangements when his phone went off. He took a look at the caller ID and immediately began to perk up. The conversation would be considered kind of jovial were it not for the atmosphere in which it took place, surrounded by destruction and wounded. When he hung up, he gave me his grin of pride.

“I’ve got just the place for you.”

#backstory #mlaatr #my life as a teenage robot #tremorton #rp #roleplay #fanfic #fan fiction #oc #fan character #original character #xj9 #xj-9 #jenny wakeman #will perringer #shipping

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writemarcus · 4 years

Text

Gingold Theatrical Group Announces 2020-'21 Speakers' Corner Writers Group

The writers are Kate Douglas, Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, Divya Mangwani, Seth McNeill, Sophie Sagan-Gutherz, and Marcus Scott.

by BWW News Desk

Nov. 19, 2020

Gingold Theatrical Group, now in its 15th Season, is continuing its new play development with the SPEAKERS' CORNER Writers Group. For the 2020-'21 season, writers Kate Douglas, Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, Divya Mangwani, Seth McNeill, Sophie Sagan-Gutherz, and Marcus Scott will develop works in response to Shaw's Arms and the Man.

Named after the corner of London's Hyde Park where George Bernard Shaw and other political speakers have delivered speeches since 1855, GTG's SPEAKERS' CORNER brings together six to ten writers each year who will spend the year exploring a specific Shaw play and writing individual new plays in response to that text and Shaw's forward thinking humanitarian ideals.

The group is led by GTG Associate Director Ilana Becker, a producer and director specializing in new play and musical development, community-driven projects, and arts education. In addition to serving as Gingold Theatrical Group's Associate Director, Ilana is The Civilians' R&D Program Director. She has served on the staff of All for One Theater, Lincoln Center Education, and Bret Adams Ltd, and spent a year as the Associate Artistic Director and Interim Artistic Director of Sun Valley Center for the Arts' Company of Fools. Ilana is a proud member of the WP Theater 2018-2020 Producers Lab, an alum of The Civilians' R&D Group, Lincoln Center Theater Directors Lab, DirectorsLabChicago, Fresh Ground Pepper PlayGroup, The Orchard Project's Liveness Lab, as well as a Playwrights Horizons Robert Moss Directing Fellow and an Emerging Leader of NY Arts Fellow. She is the creator of Argument Sessions, an ongoing series of immersive variety-theater events that weave SCOTUS argument transcripts and decisions with ensemble-driven, collaboratively developed original material, and is a member of Producing Blue.

"These six exceptional playwrights bring their unique perspectives, voices, and visions to Speakers' Corner. We are inspired by their collective compassion and humor as we hone our communal digital space for new play development. GTG's work inherently acknowledges our connection to the generations that came before us, and the experiences of those that follow. It's true a thrill to anticipate how this group of inquisitive creators and arts activists will interpret this moment in conversation with Shaw and his work (no pressure!)," says Ms. Becker.

Speakers' Corner members will meet virtually, bi-monthly, and GTG will host showings of the works that Speakers' Corner develops at the end of the season. The group's members were identified through an open application process under the guidance of Becker, GTG Artistic Director David Staller, and this season's Speakers' Corner Readers and Advisory Committee: é boylan, Stephanie Rolland, Dina Vovsi, along with Speakers' Corner alumni Hank Kim, Mallory Jane Weiss, and Lorenzo Roberts.

Kate Douglas (she/her) is a writer, composer and performer. Recent work includes The Ninth Hour, her operetta with Shayfer James at The Met Cloisters (the first performance of its kind in the Fuentidueña Chapel), her immersive play Extinct (produced with support from a LMCC Engagement Grant) and her audio experience Dandelion Story, which received an Honorable Mention from SPACE on Ryder Farm's CSArt Program. Her work has been developed at The Orchard Project, New Victory Theater, The Civilians R&D Group, SPACE on Ryder Farm, Rhinebeck Musicals and the Writer's Colony at Goodspeed. She is a Dramatists Guild Fellow and a current member of The Orchard Project Greenhouse. As a complement to her artistic practice, she is a student of herbalism, horticulture and biodynamic craniosacral therapy. www.kate-douglas.com

Aeneas Sagar Hemphill (he/him) is an Indian-American playwright and screenwriter based in NYC and DC. Weaving through many genres, his work builds new worlds to illuminate our own, investigating the ghosts that haunt our lives and communities with passion, pathos, and humor. He was a 2019 Resident Artist with Monson Arts Center and 2017-2018 Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre, as well as semi-finalist for the 2019 Princess Grace Award, semi-finalist for the 2019 Mabou Mines Resident Artist Program, and finalist for the 2017 Many Voices Fellowship. His plays include: Black Hollow (Argo Collective, Dreamscape Theatre), The Troll King (Pipeline), Childhood Songs (Monson Arts), The Republic of Janet & Arthur (Amios), The Red Balloon (Noor Theatre), A Stitch Here or There (DarkHorse Dramatists, Slingshot Theatre), A Horse and a Housecat (Slingshot Theatre). MFA Playwriting, Columbia University.

Divya Mangwani (she/her) is a writer and theatre artist from Pune, India, now based in New York. She examines the absurdities of the social, political and mythical. Divya was the founder and Artistic Director of Moonbeam Factory Theatre, where she wrote, directed and produced plays that were staged in India, Singapore and Glasgow. In New York, she has developed work with UNICEF, Soho Rep, New York Theatre Workshop, The Flea, Rattlestick Playwrights Theatre, Mabou Mines, Hypokrit Theatre, Project Y, Pipeline Theatre, Rising Sun, LMCC and Governors Island. Selected work: Elements of Change (UN Climate Change Week), Yes, Uncle (finalist, Leah Ryan Prize 2018), Rise of the River (semi-finalist Playwrights Realm 2019), and One, Two, Three (winner of best script, director, play and audience vote, Short+Sweet Festival). Divya was a NYTW 2050 Artistic Fellow, Hypokrit Theatre Tamasha playwright, Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre and is currently in the Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab.

Seth McNeill (he/him) is a New York City based playwright and theatre artist. His plays include Bastard (Dixon Place, Last Frontier Theatre Conference, Up Theater Company), we're all athletes (Amios First Draughts, Samuel French OOB Festival), and Natchetoches (Fresh Ground Pepper, Hambidge Center, JookMS). Other plays have been presented or developed with Fresh Ground Pepper, Amios NYC, Exquisite Corpse, The Barrow Group, Primary Stages, TinyRhino, The Secret Theatre, and Rule of 7x7, and he has been a semifinalist for the Shakespeare's New Contemporaries Prize and Primary Stages ESPA Drills. As a script reader and dramaturg he has worked with Theatre for a New Audience, the American Shakespeare Center, the Hambidge Center, and The Farm Theater, and he is a two-time recipient of the Vera Mowry Roberts Fellowship. Member of the Dramatists Guild. Education: Masters from Hunter College. Teaching: Hunter College. www.sethmcneill.com.

Sophie Sagan-Gutherz (they/them) is a NYC based writer, actor and singer. Their first full-length play Marked Green at Birth, Marked Female at Birth has been supported by Pride Plays (Rattlestick), the Williamstown Theatre Festival and the Tribe Theatre Company. They've written a monologue with the 24 Hour Play Festival (performed by Lea DeLaria) and have devised and performed a 10 minute solo piece Disability & Celebrity Culture (Am I Write Ladies?). They have been a finalist for the Emerging Writers Group (The Public) as well as a semi-finalist for The R&D Group (The Civilians) & PlaySpace (Pipeline Theatre Company). BFA: NYU Tisch in Drama with an Honors Thesis in Theatre Studies. sophiesagangutherz.com

Marcus Scott (he/him) is a playwright and journalist. Selected works: Fidelio (Libretto; Heartbeat Opera at Baruch Performing Arts Center, 2018; called "poignant" by The New York Times), Tumbleweed (Finalist for the 2017 BAPF; semi-finalist for the 2017/'18 New Dramatists Princess Grace Fellowship Award), Cherry Bomb (recipient of the 2017 Drama League First Stage Artist-In-Residence; 2017 Finalist for the Yale Institute for Music Theatre) and Sundown Town (Finalist for Abingdon Theatre Company's Virtual Fall Festival Of Short Plays). His work has been developed or presented by Joe's Pub, 54 Below, APAC, Dixon Place, Space on Ryder Farm, Cherry Lane Theater (DUAF), CoLAB Arts, Symphony Space, MicroTheater Miami, among others. Scott is a four-time finalist for the R&D Group at The Civilians, a two-time finalist for NBT's I AM SOUL Playwrights Residency and a 2019 finalist for the Bushwick Starr's Starr Reading Series. His articles appeared in Time Out New York, American Theatre, Playbill, Elle, Out, Essence, among others. MFA: NYU Tisch.

In addition to Speakers' Corner, GTG's on-going play development also includes PRESS CUTTINGS, which, in recognition of Shaw's career as a theatre critic, supports the development of new plays written by theatre journalists. Press Cuttings has commissioned new plays by Jeremy McCarter, Robert Simonson, and David Cote, and, in June of 2017, presented an AEA workshop of David Cote's Otherland directed by May Adrales.

Now celebrating its 15th year, Gingold Theatrical Group's Project Shaw made history in December 2009 as the first company ever to present performances of every one of Shaw's 65 plays (including full-length works, one-acts and sketches). They are now also including plays by writers who share Shaw's activist socio-political views embracing human rights and free speech, including work by Chekhov, Ibsen, Elizabeth Robins, Rachel Crothers, Pinero, Wilde, Barrie, and Harley Granville-Barker. GTG's other programs include its new play development and educational programs. For those interested in lively off-site discourses, each Project Shaw event is followed by a talk-back with cast members.

GTG continues to present star-studded monthly readings of Shaw plays online curing this global time of transition. Their highly acclaimed Off-Broadway engagement of Shaw's beloved almost historical comedy Caesar and Cleopatra at Theatre Row, hailed as a New York Times Critic's Pick, was named Best Classical Production in Terry Teachout's year-end recap of The Best Theater of 2019 for the Wall Street Journal: "David Staller and the Gingold Theatrical Group nailed it for the second year in a row with another insufficiently appreciated play by George Bernard Shaw, this time a small-scale off-Broadway staging of Caesar and Cleopatra that brought a rarely seen show to persuasive life." In his review earlier this year in The Wall Street Journal he declared "As always, Mr. Staller, who knows more about Shaw than anyone else in America, gets it right, situating the action of the play in a modern-day archaeological dig and keeping the costumes simple and the diction crisp and clear., ...all the more reason to cheer David Staller's splendid new adaptation of one of Shaw's most glittering, least Shakespearean conversation pieces. This is the third of Mr. Staller's small-scale Gingold Theatrical Group productions to be presented off Broadway at Theatre Row. It follows in the wake of his all-but-flawless 2018 Heartbreak House, an uncommonly hard act to follow, and leaves nothing whatsoever to be desired. May his Shaw stagings become annual events!"

For more information about Speakers' Corner Writers Group and all the projects of Gingold Theatrical Group, including the acclaimed Project Shaw, call 212-355-7823, email [email protected], or visit online at www.gingoldgroup.org.

#Gingold Theatrical Group #george bernard shaw #Speakers' Corner Writers Group #Speakers Corner Writers Group #Marcus Scott #WriteMarcus #Write Marcus #MarcusScott

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newssplashy · 6 years

Link

Cities and towns across the US are celebrating Pride throughout the month of June. Nearly every city has some sort of big event. Here is a handy FAQ that explains what Pride Month is all about.

June is Pride Month, when cities across the US show support for LGBT+ rights, culture, and communities.

It's a tradition that goes back to the early 1970s, when cities began hosting events to commemorate the Stonewall Riots and highlight issues that LGBT+ Americans still face.

Here's what Pride Month is all about.

What is Pride Month, and how are cities celebrating it?

Pride is a monthlong LGBT+ celebration, protest, and act of political activism in the US. Nearly every city has some sort of big event — usually a large parade with plenty of rainbow iconography, glitter, and floats driven by local companies and organizations.

Several cities have already kicked off the month with Pride parades and LGBT-centered events, ranging from protests and dance parties to poetry readings and drag shows.

Why do Americans celebrate Pride, and when did it all start?

The history of Pride — as well as the larger LGBT rights movement — dates back to the late 1960s at the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar in Manhattan. The venue was known as the rare spot where same-sex patrons could dance with each other without the fear of harassment.

At the time, it was fairly common for police to raid gay bars and nightclubs, especially in big cities like New York City and Los Angeles. Sometimes these raids would result in violence on behalf of the officers.

In the early morning hours of June 28, 1969, the police raided Stonewall, but this time, the patrons fought back. Marsha P. Johnson, a black trans woman celebrating her 25th birthday at the time, is credited with starting the uprising.

The Stonewall Riots, consisting of thousands of people, lasted for the next six days.

Does Stonewall still exist today?

The Stonewall Inn — a two-story establishment on Manhattan's West Side — still operates today as a gay bar and entertainment revenue. Throughout the week, it hosts dance parties and drag shows.

In 2015, the City of New York designated Stonewall as a historic landmark. A year later, President Obama named it a national monument.

"The Stonewall Inn is a rarity — a tipping point in history where we know, with absolute clarity, that everything changed," Manhattan Borough President Gale A. Brewer said in a statement to BuzzFeed in 2015.

What's the difference between the Pride Parade, the Dyke March, and the Trans Day of Action?

These three events, usually held on separate days in June, focus on different LGBT+ communities. The Pride Parade is more or less for everyone, while the Dyke March is a protest march for the rights of queer women and nonbinary people, and the Trans Day of Action (or Visibility) is a rally for trans and gender non-conforming folks.

Pride Parades, Dyke Marches, and Trans Days of Action are held in most major US cities, including New York, Seattle, Atlanta, Boston, and San Diego.

An official straight-pride month does not exist, because straight identities are considered normative in the US.

How did the rainbow flag come to represent LGBT+ pride?

The LGBT pride flag was invented in 1978 by Gilbert Baker, a gay rights activist, army veteran, artist, and self-declared "gay Betsy Ross."

He created the flag for the 1978 Gay Freedom Pride Parade in San Francisco, at the request of Harvey Milk, a gay local politician who was assassinated later that year.

The original flag had eight colors, each carrying a specific meaning. In 1979, the palette was condensed to six colors (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet).

In recent years, the flag has been adapted to include black and brown, for racial inclusivity and HIV/AIDS awareness.

As Forrest Wickman wrote in Slate, closeted queer people have historically used bright colors to signal their homosexuality to each other.

"We needed something beautiful, something from us. The rainbow is so perfect because it really fits our diversity in terms of race, gender, ages, all of those things," Baker told MOMA two years before his death in 2017.

Is the US the only country that celebrates Pride?

Although LGBT+ Americans face issues specific to living in the US, the country is not the only one to have Pride.

Cities across the world — from Tokyo to Sydney to Rio de Janeiro — recognize their own Pride Months that fall at various times throughout the year.

What progress has the US made on LGBT+ rights since the Stonewall Riots?

At the time of the Stonewall Riots, many states still criminalized same-sex relationships. The last states to decriminalize same-sex sexual intercourse were Texas, Idaho, Utah, Kansas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, the Carolinas, Virginia, and Michigan, in 2003.

Over the past five decades, LGBT+ rights have significantly improved. In 1975, the US introduced the first federal gay-rights bill to address discrimination based on sexual orientation. Under the Clinton administration, federal funding for HIV/AIDS research, prevention, and treatment more than doubled. In 2009, Congress passed the Matthew Shepard Act, which expanded the definition of hate crimes to include gender, sexual orientation, gender-identity, and disability.

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell," the ban on gay and lesbian people from serving openly in the military, was repealed in 2011. A year later, the US issued a regulation that prohibits LGBT+ discrimination in federally-assisted housing programs.

In 2015, the US Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage in every state. In 2017, the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that workplace discrimination against LGBT+ employees was unconstitutional, and Washington, DC residents became able to choose a gender-neutral option on their driver's licenses.

Isn't the fight over since same-sex marriage is now legal? What rights are LGBT+ people still working toward?

Same-sex marriage is just one step toward full equality for LGBT+ people, who are still fighting political battles in 2018.

These include police brutality and profiling, anti-trans "bathroom bills," limits on transgender members of the military, non-LGBT-friendly healthcare policies, the decision to erase LGBT+ Americans from the Census, discrimination at retail stores and in the workplace, and more.

Even before the shooting rampage at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida, in 2016, LGBT+ people were already the most likely targets of hate crimes in the US, according to FBI data. At the 2018 Utah Pride Festival in Salt Lake City on June 3, a mob of white men yelled slurs and physically attacked gay attendees.

What are the important terms I should understand?

Some terms you might hear this month include:

Asexual — A word that describes people who do not feel sexual desire toward any group of people. Asexuality is not the same as celibacy (i.e. the choice to abstain from marriage and sexual relations).

Biphobia — An irrational aversion toward bixsexual people, often due to negative bisexual stereotypes.

Cisgender — A term that describes people who identify as the sex they were assigned at birth.

Intersectional Pride —A phrase that acknowledges LGBT+ people have a variety of identities — including race and income level — that give them varying levels of privilege in society. The philosophy here is that the LGBT+ movement should fight for everyone in the community, especially those who have less privilege.

LGBTQ+ — This is an acronym for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, plus other non-heterosexual identities. Sometimes, "I" for intersex and "A" for asexual or agender are tacked on the end, but not all intersex people identify under the umbrella of LGBT+.

Nonbinary — A term that refers to people who do not fit within the male-female gender binary. Many nonbinary people use the pronouns "they/them."

Pansexual — A word used to describe people who feel attracted to others of any gender, which can be on a spectrum.

Queer — The meaning of "queer" is debated within LGBT circles, but most often it's used as an umbrella term for non-heterosexual attraction.

I've heard that some people are upset about the growing presence of corporate sponsors and/or police at Pride Parades. Why is this?

Some members of the LGBT+ community, particularly people of color, have a contentious relationship with police, due to a long history of raids and discrimination — which prompted the Stonewall Riots in 1969. In 2017, several Canadian cities chose to ban uniformed police officers from marching in Pride parades, according to the BBC.

A number of LGBT+ groups have also expressed disdain toward the growing corporatization of Pride in major cities like San Francisco and New York. They argue that, in recent years, Pride has become too commercial and has strayed from its history of resistance and revolution.

As Vice noted in 2017, at Washington, DC's 2017 Pride Parade, protesters from "No Justice, No Pride" formed a human chain around Lockheed Martin's float, bringing it to a halt.

I'm a straight person. Should I go to Pride?

Everyone can partake in Pride Month. However, LGBT+ people should remain at the center of the celebrations and marches.

If you are straight and choose to attend a Pride Parade, it's important to remain respectful as an ally. Support an LGBT+ friend, or better yet, donate your time by volunteering at your local Pride Parade or other Pride events throughout June.

Most cities have sites that list ways to get involved.

Several LGBT+ organizations, like GLAAD, the Audre Lorde Project, and the Anti-Defamation League, have posted resources on these topics as more. You can also find out about your local Pride events here.

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