Just imagine getting ready for a day of paperwork and networking with all the glittering stars of Paris Officialdom when you receive a communique from your most no-nonsense shoeleather lieutenant out in the field that the mayor (completely respectable, thoroughly bourgeois, beloved by all) is wanted fugitive DB Cooper and he wants a SWAT team in a bearcat to come take his ass to jail RIGHT NOW.
It's already pretty weird. Then you look over to the other email you've received this morning telling you that they've got Mr. Cooper cooling his heels in the county lockup at this very moment. What would you even do.
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been having insane insane crazy as fuck brainworms about jvj’s possessive tendencies and how much javert would enjoy them
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big one and small one :,)
(this is platonic/familial obv, the fact that I have to say that is sad)
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i finished tma today after putting it off for like 3 months (i really wanted to finish it when the magnus protocol came out so i wldnt go insane)
my most honest reaction: holy. shit. tma 200 destroyed me ithink
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seeing the les mis arena world tour next year can whoever's on the casting team hire some gay fuckers so i can witness an enjoltaire kiss with my own eyes
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one way we know that enjy was never a child is that children are an oppressed class and that would never happen to him
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Unreal Unearth is out and the urge to write an EXR fic based on every single song is STRONG
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sometimes living well is friends and the world and doing and hustling and connecting. sometimes, though, it's massage therapy + a 10mg edible + replying to an ask + not talking for three hours + late banh mi dinner + backreading chats from smart people + not talking for two more hours + going to bed
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Richard Burton said of his reading, “I have banged along so quickly because I am so nervous. In the recent production with Peter O’Toole at the Old Vic, they played the full four-hour text. Since there are no cabs outside the Vic in the late evening, a Londoner without a private car has to catch the 11:20 underground or he’ll spend the night with friends. According to O’Toole, the final scenes were played not in terms of Shakespeare but the subway. Actors simply used their lines to plead with the audience to remain. ‘Good night, sweet Prince’ was not a farewell to dying Hamlet but a sad good-by to departing patrons. As for Fortinbras, the people who saw the O’Toole production wouldn’t know him from the Second Gravedigger.”
— Letters from an Actor, William Redfield. Richard Burton on the troubles of shows with long run-times.
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Also, unrelated because now I'm just thinking about it—I imagine Marty fading out of existence had to be super painful. Like it's a horrifying, harrowing experience, and in the film even though the camera is only on him for a few seconds during the George / Lorraine moment, he looks incredibly pained. Which makes sense, I mean; he's probably losing his senses, his control over his body more and more as the seconds go, everything's just collapsing until that moment where there's nothing, not even a memory.
That deleted scene from pt.2 with Old Biff definitely supports that but it also looks like it insinuates that the ripples in time will catch up and effect a person based on how they're removed from the timeline. He fades out in a way that alludes to the fact that Lorraine shot him well before he could ever make it to that age.
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Currently playing around with the idea of Draxum's helmet being a sensory aid of sorts in that he casts spells on it to block out annoying lights and noises or something. idk I'm still fleshing it out
The basic idea is that he uses spells to filter his perceptions though
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okay so. for some reason ever since i started posting about luke black i've been averaging 100 notes a day. you people are really abnormal about him on here huh
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marius pontmercy is making me mad because i really want to take care of him but i physically can't and he's not on track to do anything that makes it so that anyone can do that for me
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