#evidently no one has told the forest’ EXCELLENT love the last line

[elsewhereuniversity]

WARNING: contains non-graphic murder, violence, and brief mentions of bullying.

I really like the idea of Elsewhere University so I tried to write a thing. I hope I did the school justice (and didn’t offend the fair folk). :)

————————————————————————— She calls herself Angel and tries to live up to the name.  She says please and thank you and sorry and excuse me with almost every breath and always with a smile. Ask her to share her food and she’ll happily oblige; ask what you owe her and she’ll respond with a wave and a smile, insisting that your company is payment enough.

You can find her in the churchyard on Sunday afternoons, offering to tell your future in exchange for the story behind your question.

Sometimes people will knock at her dorm room, heartbroken, homesick, worried, or just generally out of sorts. They leave after an hour or so, soothed with tea and conversation and carrying a few sprigs of peppermint. Peppermint tea, as Angel tells her guests, fixes everything.

There are rumours that Angel isn’t human, with her pale skin and perpetual smile. Those rumours quickly dry up when a too-bold freshman confronts her and she shows him the handmade iron clasp on the ribbon around her neck. She doesn’t, however, do anything to dispel the rumours that she has found favour with the gentry, or that she is somehow behind the minor accidents that happen to the tormentors and former paramours of her guests.

Angel does her best to be kind, to be helpful, to be accommodating. The gentry take notice. Angel reads the future in her cards for students with too-bright eyes and offers tea to students who flinch from the steel of her allergy bracelet. When they ask what she wants in return for her kindness she passes on the stories of unfaithful lovers and cruel classmates and leaves the rest up to them with an admonition not to do anything too nasty. She claims it’s easier on her conscience, not that anyone believes her.

Everything changes when Angel’s younger sister is Taken during orientation. (She names herself Beitris after a character in a story she wrote and follows a group to see the beehives… which don’t exist.) When she isn’t back by nightfall Angel takes action.

It should take more than a few minutes for Angel to leave her dorm room with a little bottle of salt and rosemary around her neck and a wooden dowel with iron nails hammered through one end in her left hand. It doesn’t, but it should.

The forest should not have lights and music coming from the ash grove. Evidently, no one has told the forest.

“Where’s my sister?” Angel demands of the first gentleman she sees.

“How should I know?” he sniffs.

“Where. Is. My. Sister?” Angel taps her weapon against the gentleman’s ankle with just enough force to draw blood.

“Ah! Singing! She’s singing!”

“Where?”

“Far end of the grove, under the blue banner.”

Angel moves swiftly through the crowd, mercilessly swinging her weapon into anyone who tries to stop her. She and her sister gather up the other Taken and leave without hassle. There isn’t really anyone left to hassle them.

“I thought angels were supposed to be nice!” calls the one gentleman left alive, trying to hide the fact that he was obviously favouring his iron-burned ankle.

“Sweetheart,” Angel drawls condescendingly as she turns to face him, “ did no one ever tell you that angels are warriors?”

x

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x6 thoughts

I felt like the physical embodiment of a series of iconic reaction GIFs while watching this episode. I felt like Higgins gagging on air and right and wrong choices. As an invested, non-casual Ted Lasso viewer, I feel quite absorbed in the experience of every episode, but I’m not usually a LOUD non-casual Ted Lasso viewer. At one point last night, I shouted “This is the wackiest show ever made!” at @bristler, and that doesn’t even sound like something I would say. And by “wacky” I just meant “all the emotions are happening at once.”

This episode was absolutely great and I knew that every single Rebecca Welton feeling I have would intensify because of this episode and that is exactly what happened.

This is me bravely writing down my episode thoughts after only one viewing (just like last week) and a bad night of sleep! Copious spoilers and emotions ahead...

This show goes all in on hats! A lot of bad hats for giving bad relationship advice and making bad decisions! Feel like you’re gonna do something correctly? Just put on a bad hat, that’ll snap you right out of it. Just had a revelation that you are almost certainly in an abusive relationship? Your girlfriend is hiding in the parking lot with a terrible hat for you! (I love this show.)

Dark forest dark forest dark forest dark forest.

I truly, truly, truly do not mean this to sound judgmental of any other fan, but it’s taking everything in my power not to just type “dark forest” in the comments of every person who is outraged that LDN152 is not Ted.

Gonna get my initial thoughts on the Sam=LDN152 reveal out of the way. I honestly like this choice.

First, I like this choice because of who LDN152 isn’t. I think about how awful it would be if she’d matched with Rupert and realized she’d been manipulated by him and charmed by him all over again, and how, when she gets the same reveal the audience already has, she would end up retraumatized by having been charmed and taken in by Rupert all over again. I think about her matching with Nate (if he’d redownloaded the app) and the inadequacy of her assertiveness advice and how Nate is one of the only non-Rupert characters who’s used sexist language against her and how Nate’s insecurities would be like water trying to co-exist with the oil of Rebecca’s insecurities. Nate and Rebecca are fond of each other and seem to want to be in each other’s lives, but a romantic squishing together via dating app would set them both back lightyears. I think about her matching with Ted, a man currently on a parallel-to-Rebecca trek through a very painfully dark forest, a man swinging wildly between performative attempted wit and utter panic. A man she trusts with her professional and personal challenges. [Her challenging mother comes to town and Keeley and Ted are the people she wants with her at lunch.] Ted and Rebecca, with all their current limitations, and with all the ways the forest obscures the view, are trying to be there for each other in their real, non-romantic comedy versions of their lives, and the discomfort of matching on an app seems like the kind of thing that would make them rear back from each other instead of bringing them even closer together. It is not time. It is so profoundly not time that I would have been furious if the writers had continued the “maybe it’s Ted?” line of thought for another second longer than they did.

Second, I like this choice because of who Sam is. I know. He’s not an appropriate match for her. The power dynamics are all messed up and their ages are all wrong. But this does introduce a potentially interesting parallel between Rupert and his younger women and the scrutiny Rebecca would risk herself and Sam experiencing if she goes for it. Rebecca seems to have tried to put away her Rupert-related trauma, but the specter of Rupert is lurking, and I do see that being a good person making an ethically complicated decision with another good person is very different from being an abuser setting out to take advantage of multiple people...but there are parallels she might have to reckon with. Also, Sam is a kind person with a strong ethical center and a well-documented interest in Rebecca. He and Ted helped each other feel more at home in London during a time of deeply missing other homes, and Sam has internalized a lot of Ted’s ways of living in a way that might genuinely appeal to Rebecca even if she doesn’t fully realize why. The writers on this show don’t write messes for the sake of drama. They write messes because life is painful and complicated and also very funny. I’d be shocked if, however this Bantr thing plays out, it isn’t painful and complicated and also funny.

(I am already a little worried that whatever happens next is going to activate some very ironic fan reactions given this is a show whose thesis statement is about withholding judgment. This fear is based not on Ted Lasso-specific knowledge but on unfortunate patterns of fandom, but...you can fear the impact of racist, sexist, and ageist tropes on two beloved characters without embodying those tropes as a viewer. You can watch characters make decisions that could subject them to harmful scrutiny without performing that harm yourself.)

Ted Lasso is a fictional character who tweeted about the joy of eating out (you know...at the Crown and Anchor) the day before 2x6 launched and during 2x6 Rebecca invited him to eat out at the Crown and Anchor. (I love this show.) I am so, so, so fond of all the little lunch-y things in this episode. Ted can’t bring Henry his lunch because he’s “at work” aka living in London. Ted and Beard surprise each other with secret sandwiches on Fridays. Rebecca is overwhelmed by her mother’s visit (her mother’s performance of a harmful pattern) and wants Keeley and Ted there. The scene at the Crown and Anchor, as painful as all the divorce/separation feelings were, was also so homey and lovely in terms of these characters being friends, being at home in a place despite the very not-at-home feelings emanating from Deborah. The Bake-Off viewing! Ted being the designated driver (probably a good thing on this particular day)! Rebecca feeling discomfort but not shutting down! Also cute British pub feelings. Evidence that Rebecca has talked to her mom about Ted! About personal things about Ted!

Naaaaaaate. His bursts of confidence and insight. The pain and insecurity and anger almost literally bubbling under the surface.

I cannot say enough good things about Higgins. He’s grown so much, and his decision to be honest with Beard regarding his concerns about Jane was absolutely impeccably done. Many, many trusted people in Higgins’ life told him not to do it. They are all good people, and they were all wrong. Sometimes one human being’s honesty makes the difference for someone who is struggling, and that’s exactly what happened here. Beard truly heard Higgins. And of course he didn’t immediately break things off with Jane. But he heard Higgins, and when Jane showed up Beard’s face looked different than it ever has, and Higgins words are with him as he walks off into the night with Jane and that might save him. And Rebecca witnessed it.

And I’m so glad she witnessed Higgins’ choice in the midst of this very difficult experience of a) trying to find Ted because she knows he’s in pain and being unable to and b) watching her mother repeat a pattern that Rebecca herself was able to break. It taught me so much about Rebecca. The way she was punished (and described the experience using the language of punishment) for having an honest reaction to her mother’s decision to leave her father the first time. The way she was taught that love is conditional, that love and reconciliation are things you can purchase with gifts. The way her mother uses the language of self-help without internalizing what it would take to heal, and probably has little use for actual therapy. The way her mother drinks alcohol as a way to feel free.

I don’t even know how to think, much less write, about everything with Roy’s coaching and his image and how Ted feels about it and all the fatherhood things Jamie brings up and all the fatherhood things Ted is missing w/r/t Nate and everyone except for Rebecca taking at face value (or willfully deciding to take at face value) the idea that Ted’s panic attack is actually just him needing to go barf up a fish pie. Ted hugging his backpack in Sharon’s office. Rebecca trying to find him, and Sharon being the one who does. The words “I wanna make an appointment” being the words that conclude the episode at the exact midpoint of the planned-for show. Halfway through the middle season. The moment Ted realizes he’s never going to be okay if he doesn’t give therapy a try.

I also can’t say enough good things about the moment with the team and Sharon, the way she agrees to one drink, the way it’s clear that she adores them all. Sharon is exacting and professional without being cold and calculating, and everything she does in this episode is such a gorgeous model of assertiveness, patience, and moderation...three things Ted struggles with the most.

What a dark forest. What an excellent group of humans.

[justaghostingon]

Forgotten Alters Part 2

Buried Secrets

As the Academy readies itself for the Hunter’s big festival, Gyrus gains the chance to learn a secret about the god and himself.

The courtyard of the academy was bustling with activity. Magicians and casters of all types ran back and forth, some balancing gigantic barrels of paint, others with ceremonial white robes to soak in glowing powder so that no one got shot, and even someone driving a whole herd of wild boars through the center, fattened and grunting and ready to be doused in bright greens and yellows for the festival’s Great Hunt. 

Gyrus dodged around a stray boar, tripping backwards until he collided someone soft. He looked up to see the familiar face of his astrology professor frowning down. 

“Gyrus,” Professor Iro sighed. “Where have you been?”

“I was double checking some of the preparations for the release of the boars,” Gyrus lied through his teeth, not wanting to explain how he’d gone to his secret altar, again, to wish the Hunter good luck on the Great Hunt. He hadn’t been there, which Gyrus really ought to have predicted. The hunter might occasionally masquerade as a priest in Gyrus’ company, but he no doubt had better things to do to prepare than accept the well wishes of a random mortal who kept stumbling into his hidden altar. 

That didn’t stop the disappointed drop in Gyrus’ stomach at the empty altar though.

Professor Iro’s sigh brought Gyrus back to the present. “That’s priest work boy,” he grumbled. “Don’t go doing their job for them. They do little enough as it is.”

“They lead the Hunt!” Gyrus protested, feeling slightly offended on the priest’s behalf. “It’s their job to make sure that everyone has a good time, and that all the boars get caught!”

Professor Iro snorted. “Yeah, theoretically. All just an excuse to Hunt these so called ‘Great Beasts’ and try to imitate their god’s own Great Hunt,” Professor Iro waved a hand at the boars in the courtyard, now being sprayed with the bright green paint. “We’re the ones who actually have to create these ‘great beasts,’ to match the Great Traitor’s monstrous form,  and guide the less experienced hunters to a good catch while the priest frolic in the forest.”

Gyrus looked down at the ground, cobbled stones splattered in glowing emerald paint. The academy did put a lot of work into preparation for the Great Hunt, from painting the boars to guiding the poorer families towards the fattest finds. Still, “At least we’re not in charge of the cooking.” The feast afterwards could last for days, and the smell of blood and grease clung to the priest and peasants for ages after they prepared their kills. 

“Hunter grant us small favors,” Professor Iro muttered. “That reminds me,” he gave Gyrus a peircing look. “The headmaster wants to see you.”

He does?” Gyrus jumped. Running an anxious hand through his hair. “What for?”

“Not sure.” Professor Iro shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. But it sounded important. So whatever it is,” his hand squeezed Gyrus’ shoulder, “make the astrology department proud okay?”

“Of course,” Gyrus gulped. Mind racing. What had he done lately that would warrant a call from the headmaster himself? Was he going to get a reward for his latest project? But why a call to the office? Usually rewards were offered in big ceremonies. This sounded more like a reprimand. Or discipline. But it wasn’t like he’d done anything bad recently. Or anything worthy of reward either. Just his last paper on the Hunter... Oh no. 

“You okay there Gyrus?” Professor Iro’s brow furrowed. “You look kinda pale.”

“I’m great!” Gyrus pulled his lips into a terrible approximation of a smile. “Which way to the headmaster’s office again?”

“It’s in the west wing. Behind the big gold doors, where it’s been since day one.” Professor Iro raised an eyebrow. “Gyrus are you sure you’re okay?”

“Completely!” Gyrus began to back away. “See you at the Hunt!” Not bothering to see Professor Iro’s reply, he took of running west. He needed to find out what the headmaster knew, for the Hunter’s sake. He’d trusted him, Gyrus flashed backwards to their meeting, months ago.

----------

“You’re back,” The Hunter’s voice caused Gyrus to whirl around, the picnic basket of Mandu nearly falling from his hands. The god was leaning against the entrance, effectively cutting out Gyrus only exit. An ethereal light from outside bathed his skin and made him seem to glow. Or he was actually glowing. He was a god after all.

“You’re here!” Gyrus gaped. He’d been so certain the Hunter wouldn’t return, he so rarely manifested twice. Unless - “I’m not going to do the project!”

“Huh?” The Hunter cocked his head, stretching his arms up above his head. “Why not? Seemed like you were pretty excited.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt your...I mean I don’t think the Hunter’s going to like it if I broadcast this failed duality everywhere.” Gyrus glanced at the shadow burns on the wall.

“It’s just a school paper.” The Hunter rolled his eyes. “No one’s going to be consulting some apprentice caster’s first year paper for the next great religious guidelines.”

“Final year” Gyrus corrected, then shoved his hand over his mouth, realizing he’d just contradicted a god.

The Hunter merely raised an eyebrow. “Still an apprentice.” His eyes roved over Gyrus’ body, taking in his tense shoulders and his hand over his mouth. “Relax.” His voice softened. “You’re not gonna offend the Hunter. I’m a priest. I would know.”

Oh so he’s still pushing the whole human thing? Gyrus thought to himself. Ok. He could work with that. “I guess I’ll trust a priest’s word,” he smiled. “But if I’m failed for blasphemy, I’m saying I got it from you.”

“Fair enough,” the Hunter shrugged. His eyes fell on Gyrus’ picnic basket, and flashed bright blue. “Is that Mandu?”

“Yes,” Gyrus lifted it up, watching the hungry god with slight amusement. “Do you want some?”

“If you insist,” the Hunter waved a hand, trying to appear indifferent. Gyrus giggled.

-----------

“There you are Gyrus.” The headmaster stood up as Gyrus burst through the golden doors. 

“I can explain!” Gyrus cried, and the headmaster raised an eyebrow.

“I should hope so.” The headmaster smiled. “Considering this work on the Hunter’s possible connection to a star god is quite ground breaking.”

Oh no. It was just as Gyrus feared. “It’s just a theory!” He held up his hands. “I’ve not got that much evidence, and...” The headmaster held up his hand, and Gyrus’ jaw snapped shut. 

“Modesty is a virtue Gyrus, but not in academia. As it stands, your paper qualifies you for a very special duty for the Great Hunt.” The headmaster smiled, warm and inviting.

“It does?” Gyrus shifted from foot to foot. He’d never heard of any special duties involved. Was he going to have to guide some one important? He hoped it wasn’t the lord. He couldn’t stand that guy.

“Yes.” The Headmaster moved from behind his desk. “If you’d follow me, I can fill you in on the details as we walk.” He moved to the side to open a simple looking brown door off the side of his office. Gyrus hesitated, confused. This all seemed far too convenient. The Headmaster paused. “Gyrus,” his voice held a note of steel beneath the surface, and Gyrus felt his body jump to comply before he told it too. 

The hallway they stepped into was neat and well kept, with other little wooden doors lined up along the way, like any other hallway in the academy. Gyrus’ shoulders relaxed at that. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

“...truly excellent work,” the Headmaster was saying, “how did you figure it out?”

Gyrus jumped, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to figure out what the Headmaster was asking him, and what he was supposed to say. It was probably about the paper, he thought as he tugged at the edge of his shirt to buy himself some more time. But he didn’t want to explain about the altar, or about meeting The Hunter. He knew if he did it would be covered in scholars and magicians and priests. Call him selfish, but he didn’t want to share. Not yet.

“It was just a feeling,” he said instead. “The Hunter likes the stars.” 

“Does he now?” The Headmaster’s eyes narrowed, giving Gyrus a searching look. But Gyrus wasn’t paying attention, mind drifting to the first time he stayed over night at the altar. 

--------------

“Tell me about the stars,” The Hunter leaned back against the alter, looking upwards through the natural window to his constellation above. A stain of purple on his lips from the berries Gyrus had brought to spice up their daily picnics.

“What?” Gyrus blinked at the man across the picnic basket from him, hand halfway to the berries inside. “Why?” Surely the god knew everything already. If anything, Gyrus should be asking him that. There were so many secrets to the stars he’d love to know more about.

“You’re studying them aren’t you?” The Hunter said with a shrug. “Tell me about what you’ve learned.”

Well, if he insisted. Gyrus sat up, wiping the berry juice on his pant leg. “Stop me if i bore you,” he advised, knowing how long his rambles tended to run. The Hunter gave a nod, and that was all Gyrus needed to launch into a long lecture about astrophysics and the value of science in magic, a subject that only Professor Iro truly seemed to appreciate. The Hunter’s bright blue eyes focused on his face, sharp and interested, and never once did he interrupt him, even as the stars above faded to the blush of dawn.

-----------

 “Tell me, What do you think of the Hunter Gyrus?”

“I think he’s amazing.” Gyrus’s cheeks reddened at the daring of his own words. Hardly a normal thing to call a supposedly distant god. He hoped he didn’t come off sounding like a zealot or a priest.

“He is indeed.” The Headmaster’s voice is solemn. Gyrus glanced up at him, wondering if he’d met the god too, or if he was secretly a zealot. “Do you know why the academy is in this forest?” 

“Because it was a good place to build?” Gyrus asked, absently noting they were coming to the end of the hallway.

“No.” The Headmaster shook his head. “Because before we served The Hunter, we served his duality.”

“We what?” Gyrus stopped short. “Why doesn’t anyone know about this?” Surely this myth was preserved by the hunter’s priests, if it was still so relevant to the time. Unless... “Did I stumble on a Mystery?” Gyrus groaned. Everyone knew how protective priests were of their more sacred texts. If he’d accidentally found a secret from one of those, he was facing a severe scolding at best, and an indictment into the priestly order at worst. 

“Yes,” the Headmaster nodded gravely, and Gyrus’ heart sank. “But not for the Hunter’s priests. No. This is a Mystery of our own academy. A Mystery that today you are privileged enough to learn.”

“So you know which god the duality was.” Gyrus felt his curiosity bubbling up inside him. “And you’re going to tell me?” Induction into the priests would bore him to tears, but induction into the academy’s own staff? That was a dream come true. 

“Yes.” The headmaster stopped in front of the last door, solid Iron carved with an intricate designs of the Hunter among the stars. “Behind this door lies a secret we’ve guarded for a millennia. And today Gyrus, may open it.”

Gyrus reached to the heavily bolted handle, pulling the polished brass forward with a click and stepped inside.

The room was dim, and he blinked as he moved forward into the amphitheater, towards the only light streaming from a skylight four stories up. Was it that far to the surface? How had they gotten so far under ground? As Gyrus eyes adjusted, he realized they weren’t alone. Rather several people stood on sloping marble steps above them, cloaked in the shadows of the circular room. Gyrus turned his head to the center of the room, where a shallow pool lay at the bottom of the circular steps, water perfectly still, reflecting the image of the carved glass, above, the only light in the room. An eight pointed star.

“The Loadstar.” Gyrus’ legs gave out from underneath him as he gazed downwards at the symbol in horror. The great traitor himself. “But... no...” The Hunter wouldn’t. Not with him. 

“I’m afraid so.” The Headmaster said, and Gyrus heard the audible click of the door closing behind him. “Back before his fall, the Loadstar and the Hunter were in a duality, and to commemorate the occasion, the Loadstar placed the Hunter’s constellation in the stars. A trick, to distract the Hunter from his true intentions. Much like he used his patronage of our early institution to go behind the backs of the gods and plan his atrocities.”

“I don’t understand,” Gyrus shook his head. It was to much, to soon. The Hunter with the Loadstar? The academy serving the enemy? Nothing was making sense. Gyrus’ head was spinning. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the Hunter took up our patronage from his duality, saving us from disgrace and destruction for one reason alone.” The headmaster lit a torch with magic, casting his face in shadow. “That when a human student with green hair and a love of the stars inevitably showed up and started asking questions on truths he shouldn’t know, we’d turn him over to the Hunter.”

The headmaster touched the torch to the ground, setting a ring of fire blazing around the circular room. In the new light Gyrus saw the faces of board members, professors, even Professor Iro stood among them, jaw set and eyes hard. 

“I don’t...” Gyrus shook his head, trying to make sense of the words coming out of the Headmaster’s mouth. “You think I’m the Loadstar?” That didn’t make sense. Gyrus clutched his chest. He was Gyrus. Just a normal human. A normal human who ate lunch with a god sometimes. But a normal human nonetheless. Wait. “The Hunter,” Gyrus gasped out. “The Hunter can vouch for me.” The Hunter wouldn’t have been so kind when he’d stumbled on the altar if he were his enemy. He couldn’t have known who he was and not told him. Right?

-----------

“You need to be careful,” the Hunter said, Mandu untouched at his feet.

“What?” Gyrus looked up at the Hunter, furrowing his brow in confusion. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” The Hunter bit his lip, frustration in his voice. “This shouldn’t be the first time. But it is. Someone’s been interfering.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” Gyrus shivered. If the god was worried, then whatever it was must be dangerous. “What should I be looking for?”

“I don’t know that either,” The Hunter shook his head. “Just promise me if something happens, you’ll come here. It’s safer. Probably.” He shot a dark look at the shadow burns on the wall.

“That is not very reassuring,” Gyrus admitted. And the Hunter glared. “But yes!” he raised his hands in defeat. “I’ll come here.”

--------------

Yes. The Hunter would save him. He'd told him to run to him. He wouldn’t shelter his greatest foe, nor his treacherous ex-duality. A strange confidence filled Gyrus as he raised his head to smile at the Headmaster. “ Summon the Hunter, he’ll clear up this misunderstanding.”

“We aren’t summoning the Hunter,” The Headmaster frowned. “Our reputation would never survive. To serve the Loadstar before his fall is one thing, but to attract him again and again as our academy always does? No. The priests would have us completely disbanded for heresy. There’s only one solution, which has served our founders for a millennia.” One of the professors threw an ax in the air and the Headmaster caught it with one swift motion. “We are going to kill you Gyrus, before the slumbering god awakens within you.” He raised the ax above his head.

The ax sung down and instinct took over. Gyrus dodged sideways, scurrying up the steps and away from the ax’s swing. He looked back for the exit, but the fiery cycle had sealed it off. Above him the professors began to press forward, weapons glinting in the light, and Gyrus took a step back down the stairs to avoid them. 

“You’ve got no where to run,” the Headmaster said, taking another swipe at Gyrus head. “Just surrender and I’ll make this quick.” Gyrus ducked, turning to run, but the amphitheater had nowhere to go. The headmaster chuckled behind him. “You don’t have to die by my ax,” he offered. “We’ve got fire and water too. Although I’d say my ax is probably the quickest.” Gyrus shook his head, picking up speed as he hurried around the edge of the pool. But the sloping steps were not made for running, and his foot slipped, sending him sliding down into the pool below. 

He screamed, kicking outwards as the dark water closed over his head, swallowing him. He tried to swim, but the water folded unnaturally around him, like a tongue dragging him downwards. Malevolent and cold. He looked back at the light of the stars, swimming above him through the murky water. Was the hunter’s constellation above? Or the loadstar? He wasn’t certain. His last thought as he faded to black was if the Hunter would miss the Mandu he couldn’t bring to the altar.

-----------

“Do you want to live?”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’ll die here. But I can save you. You can save you. Do you want my help?”

“Yes!”

“Say it!”

“I want your help!”

The world flashed white.

[trashartandmovies]

Berlinale Film Festival 2021, Industry Event, Day 4

Only during a film festival would a three-movie-day be considered cooling it down. After over a dozen movies in three days, you need throttle down, take a deep breath, eat a decent meal, sleep in for at least one long morning. Yet, when your film festival is an online event, many of the symptoms of Festival Fatigue aren’t as readily apparent. There are no long waits in line, no running across town to catch the next screening, you don’t have to rely on junk food so much, the laptop/headphones set up isn’t such an assault on the senses. (And yes, I tried to stream the movies on my television, but the Berlinale media platform wouldn’t abide.) Nevertheless, cramming so many stories into your head in one day taxes the brain — there’s no way around it.

So Day Four was a three-movie-day, and it started with an excellent film in the Competition section: Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY. This is another film that relies on the details and intricacies of conversations, that then build into life-changing moments for its characters. Here, Hamaguchi offers three separate short stories, each of which revolve around honesty, coming clean, and unburdening the soul. For better or worse, one or two characters in each chapter makes a life-changing choice to tell the truth, open themselves up, and become vulnerable. By the end, I had tears in my eyes.

Ironically, WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY did what I wanted Day Three’s FOREST to do. It uses its short story structure to indulge in different tones, to move from heartbreak to humor, to take the viewer through a range of emotions. In the first story, a young woman finds out her friend is dating her former lover, so she decides to confront him and say all the things she’s been grappling with since the breakup. It’s a prickly, sometimes bitter confrontation that takes everyone through conflicting emotions and desires. The second chapter is centered around an attempted literary seduction of a college professor that stands as one of the funniest moments of the festival (so far). The final segment features a woman attending a high school reunion and trying to reconcile with her first true love. This closing chapter is a near perfect feat of storytelling, and gives such hope to the power of human connection, that it is truly uplifting without being manipulative or sentimental.

Instead of putting the strongest story first, the film builds upon itself, getting stronger as it goes along. It’s also subtle about its theme. In each story, when the character feels compelled to unburden themselves, it feels like a very genuine and honest moment. Whether the immediate positive or negative results of their confessions outweigh the long-term results is up for debate, but the larger point is clear: we’ll only move forward if we speak the truth.

A tragedy is a difficult genre to pull off. Sometimes, like in Shakespeare’s work, the word “tragedy” is right there in the title of the play. So you know it’s not going to end well. You know that someone, maybe everyone, is going to die at the end. The thrill of experiencing a staged tragedy isn’t in the delivery of an unexpected ending, it’s in feeling those dreaded pieces fall into place. Agonizing over the fateful moments when people make the wrong decision. Recognizing the all too human traits that make people act against their better judgement and precipitate their own demise. Oh, but for the grace of God…

The Competition feature BALLAD OF A WHITE COW, is one of those tragedies. Indeed, it starts with a tragic death that all but assures more suffering will follow. (That said, I won’t spoil the ending but I will get into some plot developments that could be considered spoilers, so consider yourself warned.) We meet Mina (played with incredible conviction by co-writer/director Maryam Moghaddam) as she says goodbye to her husband, right before he’s executed by the state. Not long afterward, Mina gets the horrendous news that new evidence came to light, and yes, her husband was wrongly executed. She’s told there will be money given to her because of this mistake, but what she keeps hearing is that her husband’s death, still, must have been God’s will. Cold comfort.

Then, a mysterious man named Reza (Alireza Sanifar) appears at her door to try and offer some more genuine help. He says he was an acquaintance of her husband’s but it’s soon revealed that he was one of the judges who issued the death sentence. Reza is completely hollowed-out by the role he played in an innocent man’s death. The reasoning of “God’s will” isn’t sitting well with him, either. Reza’s son is disgusted with him, too, and doesn’t understand why Iran insists on continuing to execute people. So, while Reza’s life is falling apart, he tries to redeem himself by putting Mina’s life back together. We all know, this is a doomed arrangement. He can’t hide his real identity from Mina for long, and the longer he tries, the more damaged he becomes.

When the conclusion arrives, it does feel inevitable, but it also comes across a little too neat for the messiness of the situation. The abruptness of what happens may have been intended to leave you feeling gobsmacked, which it does to a certain extent. But it also left me feeling like directors Behtash Sanaeeha and Maryam Moghaddam may have tried to keep the audience from asking too many questions. Prior to these last few minutes, Sanaeeha and Moghaddam film it all with a cool eye and a steely reserve. The framing is practically a how-to course in visual storytelling. It makes a strong impact and a great case for repealing the death penalty in any country that still maintains the barbaric practice. Death only begets more death. Even Shakespeare knew that.

Day Four ended with my own little midnight movie screening of Fern Silva’s ROCK BOTTOM RISER, a film that won a Special Mention award in the Encounters section. Even though Silva has been working nearly fifteen years on a number of short films, this one is his debut feature and it does feel pretty special. It’s hard to classify, but it does fit into a certain category of experimental documentaries. It’s a collage of sound and footage, captured in, around, above and underneath the island state of Hawaii. It probes at its history, its status as a hub for astrology, and its unusual nature as an ever oozing and burbling mass of lava.

From the get go, ROCK BOTTOM RISER lets you know that this will be as much a psychedelic experience as a movie. Just before the titles boldly present themselves, we’re given the image of someone falling down, through the solid ground. That’s us. We’re going underwater, into space, into the volcanoes that are constantly charging the landscape in some bizarre ways. In two of the most memorable moments from the festival (so far), we visit a vape shop for an insane smoke and mirrors performance, and a poetry class that is teaching students about the Simon and Garfunkel song “I Am a Rock.” In terms of greatness, these moments can only be seen and heard to be fully understood.

At times, ROCK BOTTOM RISER reminded me of a more experimental Werner Herzog documentary. Fern Silva is after the kind of ecstatic truth that Herzog spoke about in his famous Minnesota Declaration: Truth and Fact in Documentary Cinema. Specifically, declaration number five, which states: “There are deeper strata of truth in cinema, and there is such a thing as poetic, ecstatic truth. It is mysterious and elusive, and can be reached only through fabrication and imagination and stylization.” In ROCK BOTTOM RISER, Silva is, sometimes quite literally, trying to reveal the many strange strata of Hawaii. What’s remarkable is that while a lot of time is spent staring at magma, or at lasers shooting out from observatories, you come away feeling like you have a much deeper understanding of Hawaii than you ever had before. It’s an unimpeachable success.

[terrablaze514]

Those Days Are Gone

Summary: Yesterday will do what it does best - take one down the smooth and rocky roads.

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and its characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi and Toei Animation. I'm only borrowing them.

As she looked up to the night sky, the stars gleamed and danced for the moon on the Eastern side. She was amazed by their level of brightness. According to Astronomers and space experts, tonight was the night of the Supermoon. When the good news was announced on television, the radio, and promoted in newspapers, people all over Tokyo anticipated with excitement. Preparations took place as civilians and tourists packed their bags, loaded their vehicles, and drove off to mountainous or forest areas. Some folks had made the decision to remain in town, with cameras, telescopes, and binoculars on deck. Ami was right. When the cosmic, celestial phenomena occurred, the mysteries that laid above couldn't be missed. The Perigee Full Moon, which occurred a few times each year, released its beautifully prolific light. However...

Usagi often wondered what life would be like in The Moon Kingdom right now.

At one point in time, it felt like a vivid dream.

Nowadays, she knew this was real.

Unlike most people, Usagi had placed her life on the line to rescue many; the people here, and the future generations. Otherwise, no one else would ever see the beauties of the sky. There would've been no smiles, no laughter, nor the sweet songs of birds by day. The percussive sound of crickets, the bees that buzzed, and ultimately, people from all walks of life who seek to attain their goals. Had it not been for Sailor Moon and the Sailor Senshi, no one would be left alive. No dreams realized.

This was not a random figment of the past. This was a major part of her life story. She could've sworn her kingdom's inhabitants had, no doubt, walked on the Earth's plains. Aside from her friends and allies, the vast majority of people had little to no memory of what those days were like. They've danced at the masquerade balls, sat at leadership conferences, led out in additional training sessions, and made friends. Her friends came from other kingdoms of the universe - princesses who were trained and polished to serve in her mother's kingdom as Sailor Senshi. Their ultimate destiny...

Since that fateful day the Negaverse unleashed a war and destroyed it, all that remained in its wake were ash. Dust. Broken pillars and shattered ornaments. Splintered glass and broken dreams. Her mother, Queen Serenity, was left behind with no more strength, she laid to rest while the Imperium Silver Crystal transferred everyone to Earth... Usagi felt her eyes water. Although she was loved and appreciated by her family here, she still missed her real mom. She couldn't remember her father, who served as King in those days... perhaps he died, which pushed the Queen to take on extra duties. The memory still challenged Usagi to this day, but she knew better. The only thing that the Queen of the Silver Millennium had ever wanted, was to give her daughter, the prince of Earth, his Shitennou, and all the people of both kingdoms a better chance. Even Queen Beryl, who yearned for Prince Endymion to the point of jealousy, deserved to turn her life around from the grave darkness that overtook her soul and judgment. This was, no doubt, the hardest decision she has ever made - but it was the only way. To Usagi, such reasoning was plausible. Then, just a few years ago, she defeated Queen Beryl and The Moon Kingdom was restored once more. However, she made it clear that she loves the Earth, and continued to live here since.

What would it be like to live up there again? Would she make a great ruler, in her mother's absence?

Probably not. She was still a teenager. Half of the things she excelled in as Moon Princess needed serious work as Usagi Tsukino. She needed to be more adept and proficient in her academic work. She needed to take charge more often. It was time to develop a greater sense of personal responsibility. There was an endless list of hobbies and skills she could learn, with ongoing practice and patience. To be a klutz or a flake was, cumbersome. Rei said it. Makoto made mention of it. Once in a while, Haruka and Michiru found a little humour in that, but they've made it clear that it's not for the best. Ami told her to consider five years from now - make it ten. Perhaps she could receive some more letters from her future counterpart, Neo-Queen Serenity, by Chibi-Usa.

What a brat.

Yes, her future daughter has presented some major challenges at times, from her pesky attitude to her smart choices. In a sense, Mamoru was able to manage just fine despite juggling college, work, and additional responsibilities. Usagi was not so lucky - even though she was attending grade school and lived with her family, Chibi-Usa was her worst nightmare!

The wet bed...

The "scuba incident" in the bathtub...

An interrupted make-out session with her boyfriend at gunpoint...

The time her friends fell unconscious from their drinks at The Shrine...

Her stolen moon crystal locket, on the day she forgot it...

In spite of these, she's watched her future munchkin grow spiritually, physically, intellectually, cognitively, emotionally, and socially. In all of their battles, from The Doom Phantom to the reappearance of Queen Nehelina, Chibi-Usa has attained the spirit of a warrior. That was one of the virtues that The Moon Kingdom in the Silver Millenium held. Since she went back to the future with her cat, Diana, Usagi couldn't stop thinking of her. Deep down, she already knew Chibi-Usa was proud of her parents - herself and Mamoru. With their presence, she had all the evidence of their leadership, team spirit, and person-centred priorities. Yes, she would make a great leader someday.

Usagi also had The Sailor Senshi, which consisted of Venus (Minako), Mercury (Ami), Mars (Rei), and Jupiter (Makoto). With them, they've had their fair share of ups and downs. They've been targeted directly by phages and major villains. They've rescued many innocents from atrocities that occurred. Each one had risked their lives when they weren't sure of the final outcome. Some of it felt surreal at times, yet she knew that none of it was a dream. Just last week, Chaos was defeated and Sailor Galaxia was saved, along with countless Sailor Senshi who represented many kingdoms in space. The ruin that once threatened to doom the world had reversed, but the task wasn't easy. Sacrifices were made, roles were changed. It was worth it.

Then there was another set who came along at some point: Uranus (Haruka), Neptune (Michiru), Pluto (Setsuna), and Saturn (Hotaru). It wasn't always easy working with them, due to differences in views and goals. As time passed, mutual respect was earned. It was her influence that led them to see the importance of solidarity and humility. Even when least expected, they would protect her - and the planet - with their lives. They were always on time, and she had no questions about that.

Her lover, Mamoru Chiba, who played the role of Tuxedo Mask, was also the father of their future child. Who would've thought that he was once the Prince of Earth? They were supposed to marry - but the Negaverse and Queen Beryl from Earth, including his most trusted Shitennou, have fallen under the influence of Queen Metalia. At one saddened point in time, Mamoru was taken from her. With his memories wiped out, he fell under the influence of the Negaverse and disguised himself as Tuxedo Mask to help steal the Imperium Silver Crystal. The ultimate defeat of Queen Beryl had set him free. True memories had returned and brought them back together once more.

Queen Metalia... Usagi's face scrunched as she looked up at the moon again. Where did all of that come from? What were the origins of this shadowy figure who initiated controversy between the kingdoms of Earth and The Moon? If only...

"The past is the past now," Luna said. Usagi turned to see Luna perched near the sliding door. The black cat stretched and stood on her toes.

"I was just pondering on whether or not I could really lead a kingdom up there. I don't know if it's possible." Luna quietly walked over and sat near her companion on the balcony.

"It is entirely up to you. I know destiny seems uncertain at times, but if there's any useful advice I can give, is that you believe in yourself no matter what."

A solemn smile came. "Thanks, Luna. You have no idea how grateful I am for someone like you."

Her guardians, Luna and Artemis, were cats who accepted Queen Serenity's final wish: Train them as Sailor Senshi. They've restored lost memories, kept tabs on the latest trends and villains, provided tools for the Inner Senshi to obtain success, and remained. It was also funny how their future counterparts already had a daughter, Diana. All three cats had human forms as well.

With a big yawn, Usagi stood on her feet stalked toward the sliding door. She turned to face Luna with tired eyes.

"I'm going to call it a night. Coming in?"

"Sure."

A few moments later, Usagi dreamt about The Starlights, Princess Kakyuu, The Amazon Trio, The Amazoness Quartet, former holders of the seven crystals, former members of The Dark Moon Kingdom, The Shitennou reuniting with The Inner Senshi, and Chibi Chibi.

Tonight was the Supermoon, after all.

~Owari~

[greatmentalitytheorist]

Barry Devonside did not imagine, of course, that he would wait 28 years to hear that six individuals, including a match commander, will face criminal charges stemming from the disaster that claimed the life of his 18-year-old son.

This breakthrough did not provide a vast amount of solace for him when it finally came, on Wednesday. Stopping under a slate grey sky and in unremitting rain, Mr Devonside wanted to discuss his boy Christopher, who would now be 46, rather than the 95 counts of manslaughter which former chief superintendent David Duckenfield is set to answer.

‘We had a son and I don’t want to make stupid comments but he was a perfect son,’ he said, almost apologetically. ‘He had respect for himself, for his mum and dad and the general public.’

Barry Devonside, whose 18-year-old son Christopher died at the Hillsborough tragedy, clenches his fist after hearing six individuals will face criminal charges 

Mr Devonside described Christopher, who would now be 46, as the ‘perfect son’ and added: ‘He had respect for himself, for his mum and dad and the general public.’

To hear Mr Devonside speak, his voice breaking as he did so, was to be reminded once again of the personal toll the interminable journey towards a Hillsborough end point has taken on those who were bereaved all those years ago.

Christopher was one of ‘the 96’, though to 70-year-old Mr Devonside and his wife Jacqueline he was simply their only child, who had an excellent line in mischief. They have never forgotten his reply when Mr Devonside once insisted he would not let him watch something unsuitable on TV. ‘One day, Dad, when you’re old and I’m 12, I’ll be able to watch whatever I like,’ Christopher said.

The Devonsides have had to hold on tight to those little recollections because they waved their boy off to Sheffield on a Saturday morning in April 1989 and he never came home.

Life in the long years since have been measured out in legal hearings, many of which brought disappointments until the past five years have seen a corner turned.

Margaret Aspinall, who has led the Hillsborough Family Support Group for decades after her son James died in the tragedy, said: ‘‘They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’

David Duckenfield (left) faces trial for the manslaughter by gross negligence of 95 of the 96 Liverpool fans who died at Hillborough – Sir Norman Bettison (right) faces four charges of misconduct in public office 

If it doesn’t feel right, fight. You can win. 

Wednesday’s audience with the lawyers was in an unusual place – Warrington’s Parr Hall, where the Rolling Stones played in 1963. But there was only tension when around 100 people drew up the red seats in front of the stage to hear the Crown Prosecution Service explain who would be charged. There were cheers, and no few tears, when the news had sunk in.

‘I was frightened. Absolutely frightened that we were going to be let down again,’ said Mr Devonside. ‘It is so very hard to fight for justice over the period of time that the families have had to fight.’

Those families are accustomed to having legal terminology thrown at them on these occasions and this time was evidently not much different, in that respect.

‘Some of what we heard was technical,’ said Trevor Hicks, whose life was changed irredeemably by the loss of his daughters, 19-year-old Sarah and 15-year-old Vicki. ‘We had a bit of trouble understanding some things but the message is that if you feel something is not right, fight it. If you feel right is on your side, you can win.’

Family members of the 96 Hillsborough victims address the media after they were told the decision that the Crown Prosecution Service will proceed with criminal charges

For Lou Brookes, the breakthrough was tempered by the knowledge that her parents had not lived to see the day that those allegedly responsible for the loss of her 26-year-old brother, Andrew, will face a criminal court. Their mother Gillian died in 2000 and father George in 2014, 10 days before the start of the re-opened inquests which found that the 96 who died as a result of events at Liverpool’s FA Cup semi-final with Nottingham Forest were unlawfully killed.

‘Andrew has been dead longer than he was alive,’ Ms Brookes reflected. ‘It’s another day my parents were not alive to see. We should have had this 20 years ago.’

So many shared that sentiment. Professor Phil Scraton is the individual who has perhaps done most to brings the families to this day, with fastidious research which uncovered evidence of the post-Hillsborough statement- tampering process known to South Yorkshire Police as ‘review and alteration’. But he, too, was remembering absent friends, like Eddie Spearritt, whose desperate attempts to save his son Adam on the Leppings Lane terrace were in vain.

The new inquest into the tragedy ruled in April 2016 that the Liverpool fans who died 28 years ago had been unlawfully killed

Mr Spearritt died in 2011 without knowing his efforts in helping to fight for new inquests had come to fruition. ‘Eddie was top of my ‘friends and family’ on my phone for five years,’ said Prof Scraton. ‘I miss him every single day. And he would have loved to see this day.’

The families declined offers of cover from the elements as they stood and made a brief statement, and the message was that storms are worth confronting if you feel there is a just cause.

‘They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,’ said Margaret Aspinall, who has steadfastly led the Hillsborough Family Support Group for decades.

‘There are no winners here but it sends a message that nobody is above the law,’ added Mr Hicks. ‘After Grenfell Tower and others, the message is, “Watch out, families will come after you”. Things have been done and said that should not have happened. Things have not been done that should.’

Louise Brookes (right), whose brother Andrew died in the disaster, and Donna Miller (left), who lost her brother Paul, arrived at Parr Hall, Warrington, to hear the CPS’ decision this morning

They all spoke with some trepidation. The lawyers in the concert room had warned them to abide by the legal process and say nothing which might prejudice proceedings which lie ahead, probably at the Old Bailey. ‘I’m afraid to say anything,’ said one woman.

It was the CPS who had provided most information, with extra- ordinarily detailed disclosures about their charging decision.

Their prosecutors will argue in court that Duckenfield displayed ‘a failure to discharge his personal responsibilities’ at Hillsborough which was ‘extraordinarily bad and contributed substantially to each of the deaths’.

Norman Bettison will stand trial on four counts of misconduct in public office for allegedly lying about the extent of his involvement in Hillsborough to further his own career, when applying for the job of Merseyside chief constable in October 1998. Permitting a press release to be issued in his name which ‘untruthfully asserted he had never “besmirched” … Liverpool supporters’, the day after an independent review revealed the South Yorkshire force’s catastrophic failings has added to his own charge sheet.

Relatives of the 96 people who lost their lives in the Hillsborough disaster are pictured outside Parr Hall in Warrington

Scraton cautioned that those 28 long years and the high profile of Hillsborough in the last five of them will make the dispensing of justice difficult now, and that a jury unaffected by the public discussion will be hard to find. ‘It’s very difficult to take historic cases when you’ve got fading memories, people who’ve died along the road and massive publicity,’ he said. ‘But it is always possible to have a fair trial. The CPS would not have taken a case unless they thought it was prosecutable.’

Mr Devonside just feels the families had tried to correct wrongs by acting with ‘decency’, though he was not the only one reflecting that the road is not fully travelled and that many more court hearings lie ahead before he can lay the past to rest.

‘We are ready to do that,’ he said. ‘But it is very hard to face it.’

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