#presenting... atticus sinclair

[ela-kara]

closed starter @oforchestralsteel (atticus) || the baron's cup

The sun was warm upon her shoulders, the air thick with laughter and excitement, but Ela Kara stood quite still by the edge of the crowded pathway, her gloved hands clutching the strings of her bonnet with mounting distress. Somehow—though she had no notion of how—she had lost her way back to the private box. She’d only stepped away for a moment, to admire a ribbon seller’s display, but in the shifting sea of silks and top hats, her aunt had vanished from sight. The race grounds were a dizzying maze of cheering crowds, glossy horses, and the scent of brandy and wildflowers. She turned in place once, twice, looking helplessly between the towering backs of strangers. Her throat tightened. And then—there. Just ahead, near a refreshment stand, stood a gentleman who looked as though he might know what to do. He was not too stern-looking, not like the officials with their brass buttons, nor too unapproachable. And he looked rather like he belonged, which was more than she could say for herself at the moment. Swallowing her nerves, Ela stepped delicately through the crowd, skirts brushing against woven picnic blankets and stray clovers. Her voice, when it came, was soft and tremulous, like the wingbeat of a nervous bird. “Pardon me, sir,” she said, stopping just beside him, her cheeks already flushed pink with embarrassment. “I—I do beg your pardon for interrupting. But I seem to have quite lost my party, and I’m afraid I’ve no idea how to return to the Kara box. The crowd shifted, and then they were simply… gone.” She smiled faintly, hoping it might cover the sheer mortification pooling in her chest. “I know it’s terribly silly of me. But I was wondering—might you be able to help me?” She added quickly, “Only if you’re not terribly occupied, of course.” Her fingers twisted together anxiously as she looked up at him, hope fluttering in her wide, earnest gaze. “I should be most grateful.”

[oforchestralsteel]

Who: @offairytale for one, Miss Kate Beckett

it was the first time atticus had come to the jeweler without family with him. normally it was his mother or sister, but there were extenuating circumstances amongst those. either way, he was there on his own with a small gift. it was a group of flowers hidden behind his back. more so for the prying eyes of the masses than for miss beckett. they were picked from the leftovers from the gathering and she had spoken of enjoying them immensely. atticus was trying, very much so, to be more active in other's lives. he saw this as a chance at that with someone who he'd label a new friend.

once through the door, atticus sinclair bowed his head and nodded to the state of the place. "it is strange to be here all by myself. normally there are numerous familiar faces obscuring your own," he commented with a gentle and small smile, stepping fully over to the other. "how are you miss beckett? or should it be miss hawthorne?" he asked with genuine curiosity. a pause and then he moved his hands from behind his back and presented the taken flowers to the other. "also. for you. you spoke of how much you enjoyed the sights of the party. i hope...you meant these. if not, i will accept the embarrassment."

[resurrectcd]

it is not that emiliano does not expect to see anyone he interacted with whilst at the estate out and about in london, of course especially in mayfair, he would see the folk who had attended the event. it was just that perhaps he had not considered seeing the familial owner of the estate again so soon. yet, as a slow day at the shop had presented, his employer had sent him to go about, knock on doors, and sell cutlery. it was certainly an interesting thing, knocking on the doors of the rich to sell product, something so unlike emiliano’s usual interaction with homes of the well-off. still, it seemed he was a decent salesmen at least. as he knocked on one such door, he hardly should have been surprised, and yet was still when he was met with lord atticus sinclair.  emiliano was only used to bowing as a formality used to lull someone of high stature into a sense of security, to show proper respect only to turn around and plan raids behind their backs. to seem like a stand-up gentlemen, when he only intended to profit off of them. in this case, however, he merely recalls the casual conversation shared at the estate, atticus’ family's estate no less, and feels it fair he show signs of respect to a lord who had shown him the same on the balcony that night. and, in what is only fair once again, the conversation had hardly been agonizing. he believes that the lord deserves some credit for that. it was not unusual for a lord to be a boring conversationalist, so he supposes respect is the least he can offer in return.  “ lord sinclair, ”  he bows,  “ i hope i am not a bother, or here at a bad time. my employer is simply hoping i can show the people of mayfair our newest made product. ”  then, despite it certainly not being his business,  “ is this where you reside? "

closed started for atticus sinclair  (@oforchestralsteel)  somewhere in mayfair.

[crimsoncityhq]

                                                       PART II

The Crimson City has taken new shape as The Emerald City, and the booze pours like water. Of course, anyone with foresight will know even a Saint Patrick’s Day celebration can’t go untouched by at least one of the families. The drinks have made their rounds, whether that’s lounged at the bar or courtesy of the green and orange clad waiters delivering martinis on a tray. Everyone found their way to their favorite attraction—more like staggered to their favorite attraction—when the heat pooled at their toes, licked its way up their ankles. Before they knew it, their entire bodies were consumed in heat, reddening their cheeks like a sunburn in the middle of Chicago’s burning summer. 

It clicked just a little too late that they had been dosed, and the rage set in before common sense. Something erupted in the crowd, volcanic and angry, and the fights broke out like they were on a schedule. It was chaos; chaos that couldn’t be contained by the police guards eyeing the perimeter to prevent an event like last time. Civilians and family members alike, everyone present, began to lose their grip on reality. Attachments were lost in the wildfire of it all, and those who looked like friends morphed into something to be feared. 

The O’Shea creation, BUA, and its side effects come from equal parts LSD, methamphetamines, and cocaine, all without the floating euphoria of feeling high. It’s very capable of killing, even in small doses, and even with the likelihood that you’ll survive, the drug leaves its traces on your brain for weeks after ingestion. BUA comes in all forms, and it can be injected, snorted, and smoked, depending on the vehicle of delivery. BUA is incredibly addictive, and it’s hard enough to get a hold of that anyone who ingests the drug will deal with the aftermath of withdrawals. 

Your character, for the time being, is under the influence of BUA, meaning they may act out of character and violent toward their surroundings. That includes friends, enemies, and strangers. 

Part II will run from March 20th through March 23rd. For this event, we’ll be throwing characters into groups, so they may interact with whoever they’re teamed up with. You can find all of your assigned groups below. If your character is not included, please feel free to reach out to the admins, and we’ll find a place for your muse. Also please note that your character could have been drugged by drinking any drink or eating any food.  

SHORT-TERM SIDE EFFECTS (2-3 HOURS): 

Rapid breathing

Increased sweating (typically with accompanying chills)

Pin-sized pupils

Skin redness

Hallucinations 

Extreme agitation

Violent tendencies

Obsessive tendencies

Spiking energy and heart rate

Memory loss/lack of attachment

Death

LONG TERM SIDE EFFECTS (1-2 WEEKS)

Night terrors

Fever

Increased sweating (typically with accompanying chills)

Mood swings (ranging from violent outbursts to extreme depression)

Spiking heart rate

Lethargy

Muscle pain

Paranoia

Nausea

Mental confusion

Excessive hunger or craving

Death

O’SHEA ESTABLISHED GROUPS 

FAUST MANOR - Liam O’Shea (Leader), Aurora O’Shea, Chester O’Shea, Harley Kincaid, Holden Mercer, Ingrid Vasile, Levi Bohani, Ophelia O’Shea, Richie O’Shea, Sammy O’Shea, Ivy Ivashkov, Mateo Jiminez VASILE MANOR - Freyja O’Shea (Leader), Audrey Rousseau, Cecilia Cavendish, Charlie O’ Donoghue, Davut Demir, Dawn Montgomery, Frankie Underwood, Saoirse O’Shea, Seth Graves, Arielle Hernandez, Dylan Calluso

GROUPS AT NAVY PIER :

CENTENNIAL WHEEL - Axel Reyes, Calliope Lane, Dominique Capra, Esmerey Demir, Hana Faust, Jesse Valencia, Salvadore Leon, Titus Lei, Zane Washington, Lorenzo Cavalli, Leslie Galahad

DINNER CRUISE (Spirit of Chicago ship)- Autumn Dawson, Chaeyoung Moon, Clara Davila, Eli Vogel, Helena Maxey, Laurenne Auxier, Nathan Andersen, Raven Ward-Vasile, Val Price, Zyra Gilmore, Amelia O’Shea

MIRROR MAZE- Amara Ricci, Bas Meyers, Dante Pierce, Edgar Ortega, Juno Song, Luciana Marquez, Nikolai Zima, Safiye Demir, Vanessa Keer, Zoe Washington, Nolan Willougby, Fatima Morales

BILLY GOAT TAVERN- Asli Demir, Audric Noire, Constansia Fournier, Evan Montague, Joey O’Shea, Max Wolfe, Phillip Daphne, Thomas Artyomov, Zion Washington, Helle Mae

HARRY CARAY’S - Barnaby Eaton, Blue Daniels, Christian Yi, Edith Cohen, Griffin Dyer, Lawrence Dupree, Mikhail Morosov, Poppy Levenberg, Teddy Cohen, Percy De Luca, Milo Arrington

CRYSTAL GARDENS- Birdie Mendoza, Daniel Faust, Darcy Faust, Erin Cerci, Joel Maddison, Maeve O’Connell, Monika Adler, Rosalia Leon, Veronica Pierce, Xavier Harris, Jules Leon, Lennon Novak

FERRY RIDE- Alexander Washington, Caroline Shephard, Easton Diaz, Effie Faust, Jace Dubois, Lev Vasile, Oskar Alma, River O’Shea, Vasilisa Vorobyeva, Walter Vasile, Sebastian Lopez, Elena Caines

TALL SHIP WINDY- Andrew Whittmore, Alon McCarthy, Demetria Krovopuskov, Genevieve Bisset, Joseph Do, Letitia Valentine, Oliver Faust, Rosalie Halliday, Vitomir Kipriyanov, Ximena Vasile, Francis Belle

OFFSHORE ROOFTOP & BAR - Andrea Reed, Cassidy Faust, Dahlia Cavalli, Jackson Marston, Marcel Washington, Matthew Tyler, Micah Ransone, Rahi Kumar, Viktor Ivanov, Wynter Ellis, Gang Eun-Young, Stella Bianchi

MILLER LITE BEER GARDEN- Aria O’Shea, Blake Faust, David Sharpe, Eva Clarke, Isabel Faust, Mathias Attano, Nova Deveraux, Sloan Washington, Tristan Deering, Rafferty Donoghue, Gloria Garza

END OF THE PIER- Caleb Duval, Chance Hamilton, Giovanni Rossi, Irina Koshkin, Juliet Leon, Katarina Vasile, Peyton Bridges, Sasha Vasile, Violet Madden, Melissa Woods

WEST PARKING GARAGE-Atticus Mercer, Blair Faust, Dominic Murphy, Evvie Martin, Jamie Rowe, Natalia Baskin, Toby Hayes, Silas Belmont, Tatiana Blanter, Vivian Sinclair, Thiago Caines

[doomonfilm]

Review : Mank (2020)

Tastes may have changed during the new millennium in regards to film, and while it may no longer stand alone as the film of films, there was a time when the Orson Welles epic Citizen Kane was almost a shoo-in for spot number one on best film lists.  By that rationale, making the decision to make a movie about the so-called ‘greatest film every made’ would seem like a bit of a fool’s errand... even more so when you take into account the many portrayals and stories that surround Orson Welles.  If one was to climb this seemingly unsurmountable mountain, the direct approach does not seem like the most rationale one, and it was this stroke of genius that more than likely led the prolific David Fincher to create a modern day masterpiece in the form of Mank. 

After a car crash puts him in recovery from a broken leg, screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz (Gary Oldman) is tasked by radio star turned director Orson Welles (Tom Burke) to write his next film, for which Welles has been given complete creative freedom by RKO Pictures.  While dictating the script to his secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), Mankiewicz (affectionately referred to as Mank by his friends and peers) reminisces on his time at Paramount and MGM Studios, his relationships with studio head David O. Selznick (Toby Leonard Moore), newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance) and his mistress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried), the political machinations of Irving Thalberg (Sam Troughton) to undermine Upton Sinclair’s (Bill Nye) run for Governor of California, his troubled relationship with MGM studio head Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard), and the death of his director colleague Shelly Metcalf (Jamie McShane).  Alexander immediately sees the comparisons in the script to Hearst, with whom Mank has a vendetta, yet despite warnings from all parties connected to the film and his life, Mank pushes forward in the creation of the controversial film.

Mank does a fantastic job of portraying a man with a healthy balance of personal demons and secretive actions that is dead set on writing a hit piece to bring down the man synonymous with American media.  As a writer and orator, Mank has a deep understanding and hidden fear in regards to the power of his words, and a regret that surfaces when these powerful words hurt those that he cares for.  With no true life-altering stakes on the table, the pressure in Mank is created by the limitations of an already outdated and stifled Hollywood machine sitting at the height of its powers, and the drive to create honest, moving art outside of said limitations.  As a man, Mank stands on principles built by a history of tangible changes he has made on the humble, and it is strengthened by the consistent backlash he faces for these actions, and the combination of these things leaves him with a visible and seething resentment for Hollywood.  Once Mank’s resolve is built up to the point that he can no longer be harmed, the focus turns toward punishment and manipulation of those close to him, which serves as a reminder of how the Hollywood system can find you irreplaceable in one moment and wholly disposable within the next.

On a subtext level, Mank is a movie about movies, and is hyper-conscious of the ‘script-to-screen’ process in a way that informs the narrative while also analyzing it deeply.  David Fincher manages to transport his cast (and in turn, us as viewers) to a completely different time, landing us somewhere between a reimagining of Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard and a dark take on Singin’ in the Rain.  The film also gives us insight into how creatives were able to wrestle creative independence away from a dominating and overwhelmingly controlling studio system.  Despite being a clear big budget, Hollywood-level production, the film is honest about the intentions of the Hollywood system, with Fincher’s version of Louis B. Mayer speaking directly about the commodification of emotions, be it Hollywood being “the business where the buyer gets nothing for his money but a memory”, or how “what he bought still belongs to the man who sold it.

As a film that examines a film which in turn examined an altered version of reality, the historical observations have surprising weight to them.  The way that Louis B. Mayer idolized the character and power of William Randolph Hearst is prominent throughout the film, giving viewers and film fans even more of an understanding why Citizen Kane was viewed as such a problematic film at the time it was released.  By comparison, Mayer was willing to ignore a similarly power hungry manipulator in the form of Adolph Hitler, but only due to how it would impact his German box office returns, and on no grounds of principle.  Mayer and Hearst also viewed Upton Sinclair as a direct threat, specifically due to how Sinclair portrayed Hearst in his prominent book The Jungle, so in turn, the duo found ways to undercut Sinclair socially and politically through the power of manipulated media : the social, entertainment, news and political power games the men created in the form of propaganda served to ruin Sinclair with no regard for the moral fallout it left on the studio side.  In turn, Mank’s attempt to take power back was crystalized in the form of his Citizen Kane script. 

Mank is an attempt at an ambitious but subtle companion-piece to Citizen Kane that works surprisingly well, mainly due to the ways that its throwback style compliments Welles’ forward thinking innovation.  Despite being a modern day film, Fincher seemingly went through great lengths to present it in an old school manner... the film looks, sounds and feels like it used dated techniques, such as area mics, rear projection, visual expositional setups and a touch of German impressionism.  I personally found the ‘cigarette burns’ digitally-inserted (I’m guessing) at the end of each ‘reel’ a satisfying touch that almost nobody will notice.  The costuming, set design and score are deeply immersive... at times, I forgot that I was watching a film that was not even a year old.  Speaking of the score, the way that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross were able to make it so period-specific is an achievement in its own right, as it brings an enhanced sense of life and attitude to our perception of the film, while informing on what we see in a way that many modern day films now shy away from.  The writing is snappy and witty, calling back to a bygone era without drowning in tropes, and giving the actors just enough to work with without venturing into the realms of overacting or chewing up the scenery.

Gary Oldman continues to display an amazing talent for completely inhabiting the skin of his characters, losing himself in a way that not many actors are able to, while leaving enough of himself in the performances for us to marvel at his abilities.  Amanda Seyfried is a pleasure to behold in Mank, with her incredible growth as an actress on full display, including a wonderfully entertaining Brooklyn accent.  Tom Burke does everything short of looking exactly like Orson Welles, capturing the youthful vigor and excitement of the director while also managing to display shades of the domineering character traits he became infamous for.  Arliss Howard and Charles Dance lean into their larger than life portrayals of powerful men with little to no regard for the ‘common man’.  Lily Collins serves as a dramatic foil to Oldman while managing to display deep personality traits of her own.  Other notable performances come from Tom Pelphrey, Ferdinand Kingsley, Jamie McShane, and a surprising appearance from Bill Nye, with Tuppence Middleton, Sam Troughton, Joseph Cross and a few others chipping in with strong support.

2020 has been a strange year for film, and as a lover of the theater experience, I’ve found that my viewing of films, especially new releases, took a severe nosedive this year.  I can say with complete honesty and certainty, however, that even if I’d seen every film of the year, I’d still stand behind my feelings that Mank is the film of the year.  I wholly expect it to clean up at every award show next year, and it will serve as a perfect benchmark when compared to other films of 2020 that I haven’t seen, specifically as to whether or not they are worth seeing.  David Fincher continues to make brilliant work, and even after a six year hiatus, he has returned like he never left.

[myvelvetvows]

Alice stirred her tea with a slow, deliberate motion, the silver spoon clinking softly against the porcelain. Rain tapped at the windows, a steady rhythm that mirrored the quiet hum of thought beneath her composed exterior. Atticus intrigued her, not for his title, nor even for the air of quiet calculation he carried, but for the way he carried himself, as though constantly bracing for some unseen maneuver. A strategist, he called himself. She did not disagree.

His pocket watch, his ever-present knife, the small, unnoticed habits that revealed more than words. Alice had made a career out of noticing. Her trade required her to see beyond fabric and thread, to understand a person’s unspoken needs before they themselves could articulate them. Atticus Sinclair was no different. The way his fingers brushed over the knife at his waist, not from nerves but familiarity, suggested a man who preferred certainty over chance. The umbrella, the medicinal material, the tools of a man who anticipated the world’s unpredictability yet remained pragmatic enough to prepare for it.

His response to her observations was measured, as she expected, yet laced with something else. Curiosity? Perhaps. Amusement? Possibly. A challenge? Certainly. Alice allowed a small, knowing smile. “Only when I find the subject worth the consideration, Lord Sinclair,” she replied, her voice smooth, confident, edged with just enough warmth to soften the sharpness of her words. “And I must admit, it is not often I meet someone whose layers seem quite so carefully arranged.” She set her spoon aside, folding her hands over one another. “But if I have been too bold, you need only say so, and I shall retreat to safer, more agreeable conversation.” A subtle provocation, wrapped in politeness. A slight pause, a considering look. “And yet, you never did answer my original question. That tells me plenty, Lord Sinclair.” She let the implication settle between them, her tone light but deliberate. If he wished to deflect, he would; if he wished to engage, well—Alice was more than prepared.

Atticus couldn't help but smile. It is small, as his are so often are, but it is natural at least. "I wish it was all of that. Unfortunately, these are all things that come from my own mind and I may be a strategist, so to speak, in some regards. Courtship is not one of them. The umbrella for the aforementioned secret meetings, the pocket watch was a gift from my family and useful. The material for illness or in case of someone needing it for the same reason. Though it does seem to be needed more often than not by the women around me. Finally the knife- I would be a little lost without it. I use it regularly for many things."

Interesting that she would assume that and then further. This one was observant or at least believed herself to be. It was different. Usually meetings like this were wrought with more diminished subjects.

"It is a pleasure Miss Alice Heywood. A true pleasure." As his hand returned to him, an eyebrow raised further. An observant one, this Miss Alice Heywood. That much was easy to ascertain. "Despite the plea for forgiveness, you cut deeper than my own knife. It is not a wound though, but exploratory. Evidently. Do you often wonder about the unwed like me and lay the observations before them? Especially in a first meeting?" His tone, still sharp as it always was, edged closed to the curious. It was certainly a heavy start to a meeting, but it hadn't gotten into offensive as far as he was concerned.

[oforchestralsteel]

Atticus merely stared at the other as he spoke. Dark eyes didn't move from their spot on the other, watching and listening. It was only after he finished did he step forward.

"It is about you as a person, Mister Erwood." Another pause, Atticus thinking over his words carefully. "My family has each other for days like this. When rumors burn through town faster than a towering inferno. No matter what happens to us, we are there for each other. I am always going to make sure of that. It is both my job and what I would do regardless of position or station." Atticus' family meant more than world to him. He would put anything of theirs above him. There was never a moment of hesitation for the eldest Sinclair to protect any of them.

"With that said, you are now being written about in Whistledown." He cleared his throat after her name poisoned his tongue for just a moment. "I want to thank you for all the help you have given us. Given me. In such a short time, it has been a blessing to have you here." The words were awkward, stilted, like he was reading a script. All of this was hard for Atticus. Not from genuineness but merely from tone and presentation. "And as a part of that thank you, I wanted to extend myself for help to you. Whatever it is you need with help, if you should need it, dealing with all that's been written in that slanderous paper- I will be here for you. If you seek it."

Before the first light of day broke fully across the sky, William, a lean stable boy, was already at work. The air was crisp with the scent of dew and hay as he moved silently between the stables, his hands sure and steady as he tended to the horses. His russet jacket, worn with use, flapped gently in the breeze as he brushed down the steeds, their warm breath mingling with the cool morning air. The quiet of the dawn enveloped him, a peaceful solitude before the house awoke, and William, lost in the rhythm of his work, felt at home.

Any sense of solitude was broken when William heard the familiar voice of Atticus Sinclair call out to him. His heart skipped a beat as he brushed his palms against his trousers as he instinctively straightened his back. “Of course, sir.” William’s voice was low as he tried to hide the nerves that hid beneath them. Was this the time when he was sent on his way, shunned from London as well as Margate? He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice, but it came out quieter than he intended. “I was just finishing up, but no one else was around.” Any staff that had tried to help, William had quickly dismissed earlier. Company wasn’t something he wanted right now.

He stared at the ground, unable to meet Atticus’s gaze; the weight of what was to come pressed down heavily on him. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, each quiet sound of hooves or wind in the rafters only amplifying the silence between them. William forced himself to glance up, meeting Atticus's eyes for a brief moment before looking down again. “If this is performance-related, I assure you my work is still impeccable.” His words trailed off, his breath catching in his throat. “But if it is something else, something that leads to my dismissal, please allow me to plead my case.”