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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 2 months

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the harder the rain, honey the sweeter the sun

Fandom: AP Bio

Pairing: Jack Griffin/Lynette Hofstadter

Prompt: Motion Sickness

Jack gets motion sick. That's it.

(TW for vomit)

Read here or below the cut

“Ralph, if you do not let me sit at the front of this goddamn bus I swear I’m going home right now.”

Jack’s late to the school trip, because of course he is, and Lynette watches him from her window seat at the back of the bus with a bemused smile on her face. He's stood outside directly facing Durbin, arms crossed like an army staff sergeant even as his entitled behaviour spills over into brat territory. He apparently wants to sit at the front. Bad.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but you arrived nearly-” Durbin checks his watch. “Half an hour after you were supposed to get here- if you'd been here on time, I might have been able to get you a seat near the front, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do now.”

Jack huffs exasperatedly, turning to glare at his front-seated opponents. “Half the kids up there could easily swap seats to somewhere further up the bus. It's ridiculous.”

Durbin shrugs. “Maybe, but they're all settled now. You’ll cause commotion if you try to change them all around like that. You know how many rivalries there are in high school, Jack? Hundreds.”

“I don't care whether they declare world war three because of me, Ralph! Just move them around!”

But for once, Durbin is putting his foot down. He shakes his head, and gestures to the door of the bus.

“Not possible. Now c’mon, man. Go sit down before you make things harder than they have to be.”

Lynette can tell Jack is pissed- he has that same vein popping in his neck which appears when someone criticises Henry David Thoreau. Still, he seems to consider admitting defeat on the bus front preferable to embarrassing himself by pushing it further, so with flaming cheeks he storms up the steps and down the aisle towards her. The moment he flops into the seat next to her, she arches a brow.

“Is it so bad sitting next to me?”

He sighs. Shakes his head gently, even as tension remains in every limb. “It’s not that, Lyns. I would’ve got you to sit next to me wherever in the bus we ended up.”

She frowns. “So? What's the big deal with sitting back here then?”

There's a split second where Jack’s cheeks flush even redder, right before he composes himself and shrugs.

“It’s… it’s nothing. Just- you get a better view from the front, s’all.”

A better view? She’s not about to press it, but God is he particularly bad at lying today.

The engine soon starts to rumble, and Durbin stands at the front of the bus to begin his spiel about seatbelts and behaviour. They’re going to the Toledo Museum of Art, not MOMA, but evidently the future reputation of Whitlock is at stake here. Durbin means business.

Jack seems a little distanced during the speech, which is to be expected. Lynette catches him fiddling with his buckle for a while, shifting in his seat to get comfortable, rummaging around in his bag, etc etc. At one point, she reaches out a hand to catch his, hovering as it is over a bracelet on his other arm that he's been slingshotting against his skin for a minute straight.

“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you're not careful.” She chides gently.

Jack doesn't say anything, merely rouges a little further and pulls his sweater secretively over his wrist so the bracelet is no longer visible. Huh. Odd.

“Alright,” Durbin finishes, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

He swings round to sit down, and almost immediately the bus lurches forward. Lynette doesn't miss the way Jack’s hands leap out to grab hold of the edges of his seat (even if he does pull them away again almost as soon as they find purchase).

She raises an eyebrow in silent question, but he keeps his gaze forwards, Adam's apple bobbing. If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that something's bothering him.

If only she knew what it was.

The first ten minutes of the journey Jack spends with his eyes shut, hands fidgeting in his lap. He flinches at the occasional bump in the road but other than that? He's still as a statue.

Things take a turn around the twenty minute mark, though. He opens his eyes, and there's a slight flash of panic in them- one that he conceals well except when they roll over yet another speed bump, at which point his pupils dilate with obvious fear and his hands reach down again to grip at his seat. His moments of stillness are over, too. Now, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat like no position is bearable for his old bones. Lynette grins.

“These Toledo roads too juddery for you, old man? You look like you're worried you're gonna step off with bruises.”

Jack wears an unbelievably fake smile for a second, until another pothole wipes it clean off his face- as well as, apparently, every ounce of colour.

The flush on his cheeks has completely disappeared, replaced by an uncanny pallor that Lynette has only seen on him once, when he was so sick with the flu he couldn't even hold his own head up. She frowns.

“You alright?”

He nods, too quick to be sincere, then hurriedly leans down to rummage through the bag at his feet. From it he withdraws a little orange pill bottle, pours a few into his hand, and tips them back shakily. Follows it up with a meagre sip of water.

Lynette spies the label just before he shoves the bottle right back down into the bag.

Dramamine.

Oh. Oh.

He must notice her expression change, because he suddenly looks at her imploringly. Desperately. She expects him to tell her they need to pull over, but instead he swallows, appearing more nauseated by the second, and murmurs,

“Please- please don't tell anyone.”

Lynette's heart breaks a little.

“Oh, hon, you know that I’d never tell anybody something you didn't want them to know… still, do you want me to go see if Durbin can get a seat change?” Jack’s eyes widen, and she puts a reassuring hand on his arm. “Look, I know you don't want him to know, but I’m sure that if he understood the reasoning behind you wanting a seat near the front, he might… Jack?”

She realises far too late that his eyes widening was not in fact a response to her suggestion, but instead a far more dire warning.

Now, he closes them entirely, trembling a little as he breathes rhythmically. There's sweat beading on the back of his neck.

“M… think I’m gonna be sick…” he murmurs weakly.

It's hardly a surprise. He's so pale now that it's even clear to some kids across the aisle that Mr Griffin? He isn't feeling so hot.

Lynette swears under her breath. Unbuckles her belt.

“Alright, hold on, Jack, just hold on- I’m gonna go tell the driver to stop, okay?”

As she stands, he gropes shakily about the air for her arm, before finding and clutching it.

“W-wait, Lyns, don't go.” His eyes remain squeezed shut. His other hand keeps that vice-like grip on his seat.

Lynette feels truly sorry for him. God, she does. She can see kids from further away in the bus starting to gossip now- after all, she's stood, and her boyfriend is holding her arm like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to this realm while he swallows convulsively.

“I gotta get the driver, sweetheart, but I promise I'll be back.”

She reaches up to briefly swipe her thumb along the jut of his cheekbone; watches him melt, shuddering, into the touch before she reluctantly pulls away and hurries into the aisle. The bus continues thundering along the roads, sending her teetering this way and that while she tries to move forward in a way that makes even her queasy. She dreads to think how Jack’s holding up with the movement.

Eventually, she reaches the front. Durbin is sat talking to Helen, but he trails off when he sees Lynette approaching the driver.

“Ms Hofstadter? What are you doing?”

She ignores him. There isn't time for explanatory remarks.

“Excuse me, driver?”

The guy’s wearing shades and a little earpiece (way too high-end for goddamn Toledo) and at first he doesn't seem to hear her, so she clears her throat and tries again.

“Excuse me? Driver?”

He starts, eyes flitting from the road to her desperate expression.

“Uh, can I help you?”

“I need you to pull over.”

Durbin leans forward to tap her on the shoulder.

“Uh, Miss Hofstadter, I’m afraid we can't just-”

“Ralph, it's important.”

“-stop the bus for every whim, we'll be there soon and-”

“Ralph.” Lynette says brusquely, turning to look at him. “If we don't stop this bus right now, Jack is going to… Ralph… everywhere.”

Durbin frowns, mouthing the words as if to make sense of them. It takes a few seconds, but soon his own eyes are widening with realisation.

“He’s…?”

“Motion sick.” Lynette confirms with a nod. “And he's not looking good back there, Durbs. We have to pull over. Now.”

Thankfully, Durbin sighs. Nods to the driver, who's been listening in to the conversation and looks pretty damn eager to spare his bus from the havoc which could ensue if he doesn't follow Lynette's instructions.

The moment she knows the bus is starting to slow, she speedwalks back up the aisle towards Jack, who’s now hunched over, whole body trembling slightly. He has a fist held to his mouth, the other arm now slung protectively around his stomach.

“Hey, sweetheart?” She crouches down next to him in the aisle, uncaring that everybody’s eyes are now on them. “Jack?”

She rubs him gently on the arm and he rears his head, looking utterly miserable.

“We’re pulling over now.” She soothes, stroking the wispy hair at the back of his neck, damp with sweat. “Just a few more seconds and we can get off this bus, alright, hon?”

He closes his eyes again, groaning softly as at last the movement grinds to a halt.

“Alright, up we get, sweetheart. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

Clearly too sick to give a shit about how he's perceived, Jack lets Lynette half haul him up from his seat, her hand remaining on the small of his back as she walks him down the aisle of the bus towards the door. His steps are wobbly. Everything's still trembling.

By the time their shoes hit the asphalt, Jack’s footsteps grow more urgent, and Lynette follows him into the woods by the roadside. He’s clearly hoping to get far enough in that his unravelling isn't witnessed by the multitude of high schoolers only metres away, many now with their faces pressed against the glass to see what's happening. Unfortunately, though, his body isn't so kind as to let him get out of sight before he doubles over, retching painfully.

Lynette’s brow knits with concern. “Oh, Jack.”

Her hand moves to rub circles into his quivering back, all his muscles taut with anticipation. One of his fists is still held vaguely in front of his mouth, the other hand splayed out on his knee.

“It’s alright, hon. Just relax, okay? You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”

He shakes his head briefly, wordlessly, but immediately ducks back down again as his body makes another attempt at expelling everything in his stomach. This time it’s pretty successful, and Lynette turns her head away, eyes closing with sympathy at the sound of his breathless heaving.

“There we go. Good job, Jack. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

She continues to reassure him for another minute give or take, wincing every so often at how violent and painful everything appears to be, until at last it dissipates into panting and the gentler sound of Jack spitting into the dirt.

Accompanied, at last, by a weak exhalation that sounds more like a sob.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright… Feel any better?”

Shakily, he pulls himself upright and swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Turns to her, tears of exertion and defeat running down his cheeks.

Nods.

“D-don’t feel so s-sick, just… just t-tired. And- and e-embarrassed.”

Lynette surreptitiously takes his hand. Squeezes it. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Jack. These things happen, right?”

“But the kids-”

“The kids have 15 second attention spans- they’ll see a sculpture that looks kinda like a penis at the museum and this’ll be a distant memory.”

Jack swallows, still shaky. “I- I guess.”

“You ready to head back to the bus, hon? Durbs is bound to let us sit near the front now, and you can take some more Dramamine as well. I’m pretty sure you puked up that other stuff.”

The tips of his ears redden slightly as he nods. He still looks mortified, but at least when Lynette gently tugs on his hand, he follows her back to the bus (even if he does avoid looking up at any of the windows).

There's a lively buzz of chatter when they approach, but the moment they ascend the stairs, the whole vehicle sinks into silence. Jack’s grip on Lynette's hand tightens.

“Hey, Jack.” Durbin says, voice soft. Lynette's sure this tone frustrates Jack more than anything. He isn't weak. He isn’t delicate.

Well, maybe he is a little, but that's okay. It doesn't mean he needs to be spoken to like he's about to crumple at any moment.

“I got a few of the kids to move.” Durbin continues. “Hopefully the seats up front’ll be, uh, better for you. Do you…” He looks up tentatively to Lynette now. “Does he need a bag or something? We carry a few for the travel sick kids but-”

Jack pulls away from Lynette and walks quickly to the new seats, ignoring Durbin’s small plea for him to hang on. Lynette watches him slink into the row of two seats that's now free and buckle himself into the one nearest the window, cheeks aflame and eyes fixed on the scenery outside.

She turns back to Durbin. “I’ll take one of the bags just in case.” She says in a low voice, slipping the one she receives into her pocket. “But for the love of God don't compare Jack to a travel sick kid, and don’t speak about him like he isn't there.”

Durbin stammers. “I- I wasn’t trying to-”

Lynette sighs. “I know… I know. He’s just feeling a little sorry for himself, and the last thing he needs is more humiliation- even if it isn't intentional.”

She gives him a small smile to show she isn't really upset (her tone often slips into confrontational when Jack’s wellbeing is concerned) and quickly slips into the seat beside her boyfriend. He’s still looking blankly out the window, Adam's apple bobbing every so often to conceal the rising emotion.

Carefully, she reaches down for his bag (already placed at his feet by a student- probably Heather) and retrieves the little bottle of Dramamine. She measures out a couple of pills and holds them in the palm of her outstretched hand for Jack.

“Hey. Sweetheart. Gonna take some more meds for me?”

He turns slowly towards her, cheeks still stained with tear tracks. Thankfully, he doesn't put up a fuss about the Dramamine- merely tips them back and settles into his seat. It's a clear sign that he's exhausted.

“Here.” She offers him his bottle of water. “You know what I say about dry-swallowing shit. C’mon. Chase it down with something. I think you need the fluids anyway.”

His hands are still trembling when he takes the water bottle (it could be why he was reluctant to get it himself), and he swallows the sips extra cautiously like he's still afraid he’ll hurl at any moment.

“Good job, Jack.” She whispers.

At the front of the bus, Durbin stands up briefly, directing a questioning glance and a thumbs up towards Lynette.

We good to go?

She gives him a reciprocal thumbs up.

Good to go.

In truth, she really isn't sure whether Jack is good to go. She doesn't know how travel sickness works, whether he's going to be fine now that he's got everything out of his system or whether the moment the engine starts back up again, she’ll need to reach for that bag in her pocket. What she does know, however, is that the longer they stay stopped here, the more Jack is going to feel the weight of everybody's eyes on his. The more the shame will grow.

So she sits back as the bus rumbles to life, and reaches out to take his clammy hand in hers.

It doesn't take long for him to drift off- the medication, the stress, and pure physical exhaustion render sleep inevitable. He tries to fight it at first, perhaps still too self-conscious to submit to yet another display of ‘weakness’, but his blinks grow more languid by the second, and his breaths begin to slow of their own accord. The endless Ohio roads melt into one great snaking blob in the steadily misting window pane.

His chin tips forward a few times, then jerks back up, before at last Lynette eases his head against her shoulder, squeezing his hand.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” She murmurs into his ear as the kids chatter about nothing important around them.

He sinks fully against her. Clearly, permission was all he needed.

She snakes a hand around his back so she can wrap her arm around him and subtly stroke his hair. Pulls him even closer. Presses a kiss to his forehead.

Half a mile down the road, they’ll arrive at their destination and the kids will file out of the bus. Some will pause in the aisle, curiosity piqued.

“Is Mr Griffin alright?” They’ll whisper, touchingly conscious of keeping their voices down.

Lynette will smile gently. “He hasn’t been feeling very well, that's all. He’ll be alright soon, I promise.”

They’ll nod their heads sympathetically, and soon will file off like the rest. Jack and Lynette will be left alone. Even the bus driver will abandon his post for the time being.

Still, Jack will sleep.

Still, Lynette will stay.

#ap bio #ap bio nbc #jack griffin #sickfic #whump #motion sickness #bad things happen bingo #tw emetophobia

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rosewind2007 · 23 days

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Back in 2021 the Science Museum promoted their “never been seen” project, where you could be randomly assigned an item from their online collection which had zero clicks—then you got a pixelated image you could click on to get details—it was a nice way of engaging people with unappreciated items

I clicked and got a rather unexciting looking oblong

I clicked on it and got a calling card which was described as belonging to Japetus Steenstrup

Carte de Visite portrait of Japetus Steenstrup

Now call me weird (you wouldn’t be the first) BUT that name rang a bell, the sort of bell Sir Ralph the Rover might hear ringing his knell*

i checked, and then I contacted the Science Museum to let them know that this Japetus was no other than Kraken-man!

And the Science Museum (to my utter delight) let me know they’d updated their description accordingly:

Yay Science Museum!

*Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,

He curst himself in his despair;

The waves rush in on every side,

The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But even is his dying fear,

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;

A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,

The Devil below was ringing his knell.

Poem: Inchcape Rock, Robert Southey

#jupetus #Japetus Steenstrup #kraken #inchcape rock #science museum

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bongaboi · 2 months

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Colgate: 2023-24 Patriot Men's Basketball Champions

HAMILTON, N.Y. (AP) — Brady Cummins scored a career-high 19 points, Braeden Smith had 15 points and 12 rebounds and top-seeded Colgate collected its fourth straight Patriot League Tournament title and NCAA Tournament bid with a 74-55 win over Lehigh on Wednesday.

With its fifth league title in six years, Colgate (25-9) has tied Holy Cross and Bucknell for the most league championships at seven. It was the seventh straight season Colgate played for the championship, the last six on its home court.

Colgate coach Matt Langel tied former Lafayette coach Fran O’Hanlon for the most Patriot tournament wins with 21 and now has the most league championships with five, breaking a tie with former Holy Cross coach Ralph Willard.

Jeff Woodward added 11 points for the Raiders, who shot 56% and outrebounded the Mountain Hawks 43-28. Nasir Whitlock was the only player to score in double figures for Lehigh (14-18) with 17. Cam Gillus, who scored a career-high 30 points in a comeback 84-79 overtime win against Boston University in the semifinals, finished with eight points.

Leading scorer Tyler Whitney-Sidney, who had 21 against Boston University, finished with seven. Colgate had to rally from a 15-point first-half deficit to beat Bucknell 68-65 in a Sunday semifinal and its two regular-season season victories over Lehigh came by only three-point margins.

But this time against the sixth-seeded Mountain Hawks, the Raiders took a 49-27 halftime lead behind 12 points from Cummins and cruised in the second half, leading by as many as 30.

#2024 #colgate raiders #patriot league #college basketball #march madness

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denimbex1986 · 9 months

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'Alden Ehrenreich is being celebrated for giving one of the best performances in Oppenheimer. Portraying a nameless Senate aide to Robert Downey, Jr.'s Lewis Strauss, nobody went into the movie expecting him to shine as brightly as he does. He steals every scene he's in, as his naïveté and reactions to the horrors he's seeing mirror those of the audience. Not only that, but he gets to drop one of the film's best lines at the end. However, this isn't the first time the young actor has held his own amid a truly star-studded ensemble -- nor is it the best.

Ehrenreich plays a major role in the Coen Brothers' 2016 comedy Hail, Caesar!, which boasts Scarlett Johansson, George Clooney, Frances McDormand, and Josh Brolin. With an ensemble cast like this, excellent performances that make the most of their limited screen time are guaranteed. Yet, Ehrenreich, who was relatively unknown when he joined the project, kept audiences talking long after the film was released.

What Is Hail, Caesar! About?

Admittedly, Hail, Caesar! is a bit out there, even for the Coen Brothers, who have built their career on making odd films. It follows Josh Brolin's Eddie Mannix, a Hollywood "fixer," as he tries to manage the issues of a whole host of eccentric clients such as well-known film star Baird Whitlock (Clooney), highly regarded European director Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes), tempestuous leading lady DeeAnna Moran (Johansson), and, of course, resident singing cowboy Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich). Each comes with their own problems, and perhaps none are as problematic for Mannix as Doyle. Things go even more awry when Whitlock suddenly disappears at the hands of a group of screenwriters blacklisted by Hollywood, and Mannix has to find a way to get him back.

Hobie Doyle has built his career on Gene Autry-type Westerns, but suddenly, the studio casts him as the lead in a Jane Austen-esque comedy of manners, which goes terribly. Though Laurentz attempts to train the Western out of him, he can't seem to shake his accent or quirks, leading Laurentz to request his removal from the project entirely. Mannix convinces him to let Doyle stay, and after Doyle tells Mannix about how insecure he feels about taking on the role, Mannix tells him about Whitlock's kidnapping. Of course, Doyle ends up embroiled in the search for him, and Coen-typical hijinks ensue.

How Alden Ehrenreich Steals the Show in Hail, Caesar!

Ehrenreich's role in the film lends itself effortlessly to comedy, and luckily for him, he has impeccable comedic timing. He particularly stands out in a scene early in the film when Laurentz is trying to break his old habits, and he can't seem to get rid of his accent as he tries to deliver a line. They repeat it back and forth to each other in a gag that, if executed by anyone else, would get old quickly. However, it's a testament to Ehrenreich's acting prowess that he can seamlessly pull it off so early in his career, resulting in a scene that remains a standout throughout the film.

Not only that, but Ehrenreich carries much of the weight of the film on his back, which is very impressive for such a young actor. Doyle essentially takes on the entire case to find Whitlock himself -- and playing a role that large is a gamble for both the filmmakers and Ehrenreich himself, as they're placing the film's fate on one relatively unknown man. It would've been easy for the Coen Brothers to entrust that task to someone much more well-known (and they had their fair share of people to choose from). However, they choose Ehrenreich, and it pays off. He's the film's breakout star, just as he is in Oppenheimer, and arguably, he's even better in Hail, Caesar! for the incredible range he brings.'

#Alden Ehrenreich #Oppenheimer #Hail #Robert Downey Jr.#Lewis Strauss #Coen Brothers #Hobie Doyle #Scarlett Johansson #George Clooney #Frances McDormand #Josh Brolin #Ralph Fiennes

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mi4011vihangarathnapala · 11 months

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Assignment 04

Process of making " Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit."

Two friends run a business of "Anti-Pesto" around the town. The story based on a humongous vegetable eating fluffy rabbit trying to fill up itself with town competitive vegetables. Wallace and Gromit trying best to save the day.

Wallace is a slightly different from rest and unconventional, clumsy, caring, lovable character. On the other hand Gromit is a bossy, intelligent, caring and a silent character in the movie. Gromit act as Wallace best friend who stand behind him at any situation and walk Wallace through bad times without making him left out. One of the best animated characters of this story.

The ideas of the characters were built by Nick Park with his pervious animations of A Close Shave, A Grand Day Out, The Wrong Trousers, A Matter of Loaf and Death.

Who voiced Wallace? Peter Jhon Sallis, British actor played roles in The Avengers, Last of the Summer Wine, Doctor Who and more.

Helena Bonham Carter voiced for Lady Campanula Tottington, Ralph Fiennes for Lord Victor Quartermaine.

the film was originally named as "Wallace and Gromit the Great Vegetable Plot", realizing it was not a go the production changed it to "Wallace and Gromit the Curse of the Were-Rabbit".

making the film was a big challenge on the team

Even it had to use CG animation like when a colony of rabbit's swirl inside the Wallace invention of the car vacuum, to show it is more realistic at the moment, without messing things up. other challenge was to constantly change the script and edits according to the scenes to handle it more simply and make it work because it's all done using clay.

Characters are made with wired armature with the help of the team member Ian Whitlock and animated it as the first step before padding with soft filling and coring plastic the wired armature. Which can be moved easily.

Production team had to develop more than one puppet in many sizes and angles especially with different emotional features in faces.

Transformation of Wallace into Were- Rabbit was quite challenging to create the expanding shoe and a furry leg popping had to use a different method because clay won't stretch.

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strangerobin · 1 year

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Rue: Chapter 12

~ Interlude ~

What was life? Blasted Virginia Woolf had asked.

If he were to be completely honest, life was probably a sea, a sea of pain and suffering combined. To reach a high, only for everything to come crashing down. The higher you got, the greater you fell, and the pit was a bleak place to be, a silent screaming void.

But there were moments of clarity.

“What? You guys playing chess now?” Adeline gestured at Bella and Edward, up against each other, incredulous. “Really? Right after baseball? Haven’t you had enough competition to last you guys for the entire week?”

But even as she rolled her eyes, there was an air of ease around her and he didn’t miss the amusement twinkling in her eyes. She had let her hair loose from its usual braid after her bath, the scent of baby powder invading his sense, as she plopped herself down right next to him on the sofa to follow the game more closely.

“What’s this Jas?” Adeline pointed to the chessboard left on the table.

“It’s a chessboard.” Here. He pulled out the black and white chess pieces from a velvet pouch. “This dear, is chess.”

“Oh wow… Ralph always wanted to teach me, but I never bothered to try understanding.” Adeline scrutinised the pieces closely. And then sat up straight again in great enthusiasm. “So are you going to teach me? Or am I supposed to figure out everything myself?”

Jasper grinned. “Watch and learn.”

...

“Hey no fair!” Adeline whined petulantly. “You cheated!”

“No I didn’t, darling. You’re just too bad at it.” Jasper grinned. Adeline had always been a sore loser. He watched in amusement as the girl pouted and crossed her arms glaring back at him.

“Rematch. I want a rematch!”

“Sure thing darling. As long as you’re ready to be beaten again.”

“I won’t!”

Without his major advantage, Edward had, in reality, only managed to win by a thin margin. But it did nothing to keep the smirk from his face, even as his wife simply shrugged in good humour at her loss.

“He’s way more skilled than I am.” Bella explained, before gesturing for Adeline to take her place. Adeline for her part held up her hands in protests, but she was no match to Bella’s stubbornness. When she had her seated where she wanted, Bella immediately turned her grin onto him. Behind her, Jasper could feel Adeline’s frantic gaze on him even as she shook her head discreetly at him.

On the other of the room, he thought he could hear Edward sniggering.

Jasper sighed.

There was really no winning those two.

Knight was in H3, her queen might be close but she didn’t exactly have enough pieces to protect her king. Adeline was losing her match even if she hadn’t noticed that herself.

Yet the way she had grinned in anticipation, so sure of herself every time she thought she had made a spectacular move, or the way when she gasped audibly, eyes wide in defeat; he had not missed any of her expressive reactions.

Just this once, Jasper promised to himself, he would let her win.

And then she would smile at him her wonderful smile-

“Don’t you go easy on me now Whitlock.” Adeline had said pointedly at him at the beginning of the game and Jasper guessed he really should’ve seen it coming a mile away.

The way she had held herself poised, there was a newfound coolness that came with age, and even as she slid the chess pieces in place, her gaze was calculating. Surveying the board, analysing each other’s next move.

Jasper was surprised to find himself cornered so soon. And as she slid her her queen to its destination, Adeline couldn’t keep the smug grin off her face anymore. He had been vanquished, brutally so by his once protégé. Somehow, somewhere, she had learnt, to be faster, to be smarter; and then she had crushed him with her new skills and cunningness.

But as he looked up from his lost match-

Nothing could keep the grin off her face any longer.

Smile blossoming, face flushed from her excitement.

Eyes sparkling like diamonds in the dim room.

Reaching out her pointer finger, she gave his queen a lazy little push, toppling it.

The Adeline from his memory merged with the present Adeline to become one.

“Checkmate.”

For a moment Jasper was struck dumb, the phantoms of his past had returned to haunt him at long last. He was caught in the eye of the storm, while the rest continued to brew and crash around him, he was frozen in his place, suspended in time, whit noise buzzing in his ears.

"What?" Adeline laughed, openly now. "Cat got your tongue?"

"You... won." He knew he sounded stupid, But he needed to process what he had just witnessed.

The Adeline from his memory had overlapped with the Adeline sitting right in front of him; he had glimpsed into the past had had confused it with the present.

But even as he watched on, Renesmee linking hands with Adeline and swinging them merrily, while Adeline turned to bicker with Edward on something silly and Bella laughingly observing at the side. Something in him clicked.

This Adeline was his Adeline.

Changed but also unchanged; here was Adeline.

Because without her past, she would not be the Adeline she was today. Somewhere inside, their shared memories had continued to live on, morphing, shaping their entwined destiny. She had not chosen to change willingly just as he had never asked to be changed. Life had simply happened.

So what if she was not ready to open up to him. There was no use pressing her just for an answer right now. He could wait a hundred years, two hundred more. When the time was right, he trusted her to tell him her truth, just as she had done so for him.

So long as she was finally here with him now, what did anything else matter?

Why should anything else matter?

What was life again? He still didn’t know.

But he continued to fight on, if only for a moment of clarity.

Moment like these; moments he treasured more than anything in the world, specks of illumination in the deepest part of the void.

Little miracles in this sad excuse he called life.

Every smile another weight off his shoulder, every laugh like music to his ears.

And he lived for them.

Here was one.

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chuckbbirdsjunk · 4 years

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#in search of lost gods #ralph whitlock #folk art #folk horror #hauntology #hardback #lost gods #ancient religions #religion #ancient civilization #dorset ooser #rituals #occult #occult books #monument

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everydayhybridity · 3 years

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Some Superstitions Surrounding Robins

As I am getting used to being back in the UK, I feel my anthropological training constantly being tested. I feel like I have entered a field in which I am entirely conversant and accepted without question. Yet, each and every day I find myself trying to solve some sort of cultural puzzle. This is often compounded by the fact I am an intermediary for my wife and children who see their new surroundings as far more quaint than I do. In turn I start to be more curious and critical of all that I take for granted.

On a country walk I celebrated spotting a robin. After not seeing these birds for many years I delighted in being so close to one as it hopped its way through a hedge. Other members of my family were unsure of the significance of the bird and tolerated my glee. A few days later I picked up the book ‘In Search of Lost Gods’ by Ralph Whitlock on a charity bookshelf. It looks through British folklore superstition, sacred places, and festivals. I thought this would be a perfect way to temper and deepen my understanding of the peculiarities of things that I am revisiting.

In the section on superstitions I was interested to read the following passage on robins. It might give some form of cultural explanation to the delight I took in the bird. The robin, is after all repeatedly Britain’s favourite bird.

Robin

The widely know rhyme:

The robin and the Wren

Are God’s cock and hen

Summarises the friendly esteem in which the robin is generally held. Its popularity was said to be due to a robin which tried to peck the nails from Christs’s hands as he hung on the cross, and its breast became redden by blood. robins were protected by such superstitions as the belief that anyone who stole a robin’s egg would have a crooked finger or be stunted in stature. On the other hand, it was also regarded as a bird of ill omen. For a robin to tap at a window or enter a house was considered unlucky, even a herald of death or disaster, though in Gloucestershire an exception is made during the month of November.

In pre-history it seems likely that because of its red breast the robin was regarded as a fire-bird. Some myths tell of its descent into the Underworld to fetch fire for Man. Consequently the bird was associated with fire worship rituals, and even in fairly recent times in Wales it was believed that anyone who killed a robin would have his house burnt down. The robin is also liked to a cult of the dead as is suggested by the fairy story of ‘The Babes in the Wood’ and also by the ballad of ‘The Death of Cock Robin.’

I replicate this short passage because it provide a number of tangents surrounding the high esteem by which robins are held. It is also worthy of note that the negative superstitions are those attached to any harm toward a robin. However, the notion that a robin entering your home is a hazard is most curious. Perhaps we can apply a bit of Mary Douglas here and imagine that this is a case of ‘matter out of place’. Birds should not be in the home, but it seems to revolve around the robin and the cult of death. In one account the idea of a robin entering the home was greeted with such caution on Dartmoor that some people would rip up Christmas cards with robins on them.

Yet, the popularity of the robin still attracts some interest with its association with death, and indeed offer some comfort. In Stephen Moss’s 2017 work on the life of British robins he cites a particularly modern example of a viral robin moment.

“The association of robins with death and burial places remains powerful to this day. In early 2017, a grieving mother, Marie Robinson, was videoing the grave of her young son Jack in Hampshire when she noticed a robin hopping around. Recalling that when Jack was alive he and his twin had always loved robins, she held her hand out – and to her astonishment the bird hopped right up, in full view of the camera.”

The BBC reports that Marie’s Facebook video quickly tallied up more than 10 million views. Moss takes this as a poignant example that of the emotional and spiritual comfort that people continue to find in these animals.

In short robins are a good omen, a comfort when encountered outside, a protector of the dead, and a reminder of mortality in the home. The passage from Whitlock’s book also reminds me of some distant memory from childhood of a robin on the window sill. Vaguely I recall my mother or grandmother remarking on this with caution. Moss’s book also details how ‘health and safety’ concerns have permitted some robins to be killed in public interest. Predictably this has been a cause of public outcry. Yet, the life of the robin is always relatively brief, normally lasting a year and their most potent threat is the equally adored domestic cat.

So in summary of these notes from the field. Brits love robins.

#british superstitions #robin #robins #omens #folklore #anthrpology #customs #in search of lost gods #ralph whitlock #lifestyle religion

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the-shared-brain-in-retrograde · 2 years

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Hail, Caesar!

Or, What if Natasha Romanoff was a mermaid?

a joint review...

We feel like we should address this first. We chose this film because we both absolutely love it, but our star Scarlett Johansson isn't in it quite as much as we remembered her being. This bits she was in were divine, and we remember each part so clearly, but on reflection we do feel we've done her slightly dirty on the screen time. So we apologise.

@cassandrafey: Maybe we should class this as a Thanos film?

@becksxoxo: NEVER!

@cassandrafey: What if Thanos carried on being a dickhead only he worked in the pictures?

We then got slightly distracted over a gif set of dear Frank in Endings, Beginnings, which Becks hasn't seen but Cass has filled her in on why she should. We're both a bit flustered, but we're going to push that down now and get on with the task at hand.

Let us tell you why we love this so much. We really had to choose our words so carefully for this. It’s a comfort, but it’s not a comfort film. It’s a shared love of the Hollywood Studio System, our fond remembrance of a time we never experienced but were ingrained into as film student babies. It’s the rumours, it’s the grandeur, it’s the backlots, it’s the people. We feel like we know them, and each scene is just perfectly presented, and we just fucking love it.

We were joined by a guest for this watch through, who finished the film by saying:

"I felt not one single emotion. I may as well have sat staring at the wall."

Anyway, we will be cutting her out of our lives, so don't worry too much. Here instead are all the emotions we had...

We both started our notes with "Is that Dumbledore?" The second film we've watched that's been narrated, who knew it was such a big thing. Anyway, it was Dumbledore and he tells us all about what Thanos is up to. Being punished in another life for all his past crimes in the MCU, no rest for the wicked you fucker.

We'd do well in Hollywood.

@cassandrafey: What would we do there?

@becksxoxo: You know, things, and stuff, and people would just appreciate us.

@cassandrafey: ah Tinseltown.

We're going to go for a character based narrative of thought this week, because the plot dances around a delightful amount and may become unwieldly.

DeeAnna Moran

We're going to start with the perfection that is Scarlett as DeeAnna Moran. We love her rising out of the water, a goddess, and then unleashing her full blown rage at the conductor, flinging that crown with a panache that we haven't seen since the finale of Miss Congeniality. We both really loved the synchronised swimming, we were mesmerised by the shapes and colours. Cass had a wild moment of abandon and thought it might be something we should have a go at, but then could only see the French and Saunders ballet scene in her head, and soon decided it was a terrible suggestion. The whole premise of her being this silent beautiful starlet, and the reality of her being this potty mouth broad is just so perfect. Her secret sleazy marriages, her questionable baby daddy choices, we just love her. We also love how interested she becomes when she finds out just how reliable Joe Silverman is, a legal personhood. And most of all we love her removal from the mermaid's tail. After her eye rolls at Chris Evans saying how easy the Black Widow outfit is to slip on and off, Becks likes to think it was much more like this each time she had to get in and out of it. And who doesn't love the yelling the line:

"So you go and strap on a fish-ass and marry Arne Seslum."

She's just so good at being this character. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

Hobie Doyle

Hobie Doyle is a wholesome little puppy. Not our usual type, but we are terribly fond of him. Cass has suggested it’s his prowess with the lasso. Other than our absolute favourite scene in the whole film, which we will discuss in a moment, what we love most about him is the fact that he sat and listened to Eddie have a small breakdown about the shit going on, thought about it for a moment and then took it upon himself to help.

"This is bad. Bad for movie stars everywhere."

And he did. The solemn way he says:

"You got Mr. Mannix worried sick."

is just too much. We don't think Eddie was at all worried about Baird, but we just love how much Hobie cares. We completely ship him and Carlotta Valdez. Their little date, no matter how set up it was, was just so cute! Her little dancing, his little spaghetti lasso, HIS TEETH! Totes adorbs. We were also very impressed by his horse acrobatics, you know Cass and horses. Also he was shovelling away a mighty large portion of beans.

Now we have all that out of the way we shall share his part in one of the most perfect scenes in cinematic history, alongside the wonder of men, Laurence Laurentz.

Laurence Laurentz

"Would that it were so simple."

Words cannot describe the perfection of this sequence. We can't write everything that we loved about it, because it is literally everything. It’s just perfect, and it’s hard to imagine anyone involved in it achieving anything better in their careers.

The differences of the two of them, and they're trying so hard. The names, the words. It’s just so good.

You'll be glad to know we're both sat here trying to say the word suit now (in the way that a posh person at Cass’ work says it rather than the nice normal way anyone else does. Very hard to do, makes our voices go quite high for some reason).

Laurence is being so kind, but you can see him dying inside. A struggle we've all faced from time to time.

Also when Hobie is told to look serious and pouts Becks got heavy Sebastian Stan vibes. And ladies, is that ever a bad thing? What a mouth...

What a perfect scene. We can't think of anything else to say other than it’s just so perfect.

Baird Whitlock

Severe himbo energy. Didn't seem at all bothered being dressed as a Roman, being kidnapped, and getting offered finger sandwiches. Just another day in the life of a Hollywood Movie Star. He was just happy to be there, thrilled to be part of a club. Imagine just being at that much peace with your life, either getting your end off or being brainwashed by a cult. Must be nice.

Our friend, who didn't like the film, also doesn't understand people being attracted to George Clooney. Another reason for her continued bafflement.

We don't really know how convincing the communists were, although you know we're all for it #jointheunion but they seemed just as pleased to be able to listen to him tell his stupid stories as to share with him the whole economics business. What a nice little study group, discussing all sorts of jolly things.

Until he is slapped round the face by Mannix, and told to get his mind back on the job. Movies don't make themselves you know.

"Squint. Squint at the grandeur."

Burt Gurney

Now, we're not ones for Channing Tatum. We're neither for or against him, we're just indifferent. However, singing and dancing commie Channing Tatum, quite good fun. The whole bar scene is great, the singing, the dancing, the homoeroticism.

Becks has a small fantasy revolving around this scene and the Howling Commandoes. So she'd just like to leave that gem of a thought in your minds, let it go whereever you wish it to.

We also love the little twist of him being the leader of the Hollywood Communists, off to defect to Mother Russia, with such flair and drama as he springs onto that submarine. Submarines are a difficult subject matter for Becks due to that time she was depth charged as a child, so this part of the film could have taken quite the turn, but the leap and the dog saved it.

C. C. Calhoun

C. C. makes Cass very nervous, with the whole room being a smoke filled danger zone, the cigarette, the machinery, the scarf. And she was proven quite right about this. (Becks' notes just read choking kink? so we won't give her a voice at this stage...) It’s a good little scene with her, Frances McDormand is always a treat, it’s very atmospheric, and we get treated to a flashback of our favourite scene, so what's not to love.

Thora and Thessaly Thacker

Isn't it a treat when you forget about Tilda Swinton and there she is, twice! She's so fucking good. Such a wonderful woman in fact that Cass made no notes, she was so caught up in watching her. Becks waxed lyrical about her hats, and her tenacity.

Eddie Mannix

To be honest, we always forget that really Eddie is the star of the film, because we're so caught up in all the other little stories, which we suppose really is the point of Eddie as a fixer. He isn't there to be the star, he is there to make sure everything works, everything stays right and no one knows the dark and shady underbelly of what is truly happening.

Neither of us are Catholics, but we really felt for that priest. That poor man just wanted to go home, and haven't we all been there? Someone just constantly pouring their troubles out on you, demanding you to pardon their soul for their stupid little actions. Although we bet the gossip you get from a confessional must be great, but we suppose that's not really the point.

"Baird, go out there and be a star."

Cass and Becks like to pretend to be Patsy and Eddie, so we've just hissed Eddie, Eddie, Darling, Eddie, Sweety, Eddie, at each other and Cass is now going to spend her afternoon drunk and carry on with that. (Truly, I will in fact be wearing a little black leather mini skirt that has Patsy all over it - and perhaps I’ll have a Stoli…)

All in all, a cracking film. We will have to do another with ScarJo in it, because she wasn't in it that much, but she did steal the show. The whole film just works as a good story, but also as a homage to the golden age of cinema.

Hollywood is God.

The cinematic quality may take a slight nose dive next week, as our chum Clint joins us in a little fairy tale romp, all this to say we're watching Hansel & Gretel : Witch Hunters next week. Strap in kids, it’s gonna be great, or not, who knows, not us!

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