#I could talk about the amicus characters for DAYS

[eldritchdraaks]

Furry Visual Novel Hell

Quick context for this post, it is written by my boyfriend who has been through furry visual novel hell over the past few days. He has not been on tumblr in years, and has shitposts running through his brain daily. I’m posting this for him because his thoughts need to be made public. I love this freak.

SPOILERS FOR: Echo, Route 65, Arches, The Smoke Room, and The Burrows.

His mad ramblings begin now!

I have no idea why im typing this but I just cant let all this bounce around my head with my classes starting up in a day.

SO, after a few rather poor lifestyle choices I stayed up watching videos of furry visual novels. This little rabbit hole led me down to a familiar visual novel by the name of Echo. I’ve heard of it through a video talking about the film everything everywhere all at once. The only other form of context I had with Echo was that its creator went to make the very well proclaimed visual novel by the name of Adastra. For anyone wondering, the one of the main characters of Adastra (A black wolf named Amicus) is part of the “You have never felt the warmth of a man” starter pack as seen below

(Sidenote: I am so fucking mad literally two of the characters there are from the Echo series. These motherfuckers are everywhere)

So after that, Echo was stored somewhere in my subconscious or something. Honestly the exact sequence of events escapes me but I do know that I was watching one of Samwiz1’s videos of him dicking around as engineers,I was just going down another twitter rabbit hole. In the video, the first game he joined had a group of 5 medic bots 3 of em with names of characters from The Smoke Room, A sort of prequel to Echo. As for the twitter rabbit hole, I think hoyoverse (the company that made genshin impact) released a new game going by Zenless Zone Zero. One of the characters you could play was a big bear bastard named Ben which Eld and I immediately latched onto. A few days later, I saw that someone modded Ben into a fighting game called Guilty Gear Strive as seen below

AND GUESS WHO HE WAS FIGHTING???

That twinky lookin stoat swinging his little scythes in the gayest way you could caught my attention. Then literally a few tweets below I find this

And there he is, in the replies I found the twink in question was named CLIFFORD GOT DAMN TIBBITS???? How can you find a cuter name than Tibbits?? Not only did it reveal his name but also the visual novel he comes from called The Smoke Room. (Also the coyote in the suspenders is in the You have never felt the warmth of a man” starter pack is from The Smoke Room).

So in a misguided attempt to find it, I confused it with another visual novel that I found out was called The burrows. The Burrows was one I found myself enjoying other than the tangled fucking mess that is Echo.

So im actually going to talk about echo first.

Echo is a story about an otter named Chase who returns back to his hometown, Echo, to work on a college project on the town in 2015. Echo is a dying mining town that screams southwestern gothic with a mysterious past. Chase joins his childhood friends a native American fennec fox named Jenna, his ex boyfriend a wolf from El Salvador, a timid lynx named TJ, a blunt gila lizard named Flynn, and a ram named Carl who smokes weed to cope with his demons.

The thing that ties them together was the death of their friend Sydney. In the story a lot of paranormal shit happens regarding the town of echo, possession by ancestors, straight up cursed cryptids, murder, all on top of drama and slight hints of romance. This is a bit too much for my brain to process whatever the hell is going on. The story is a mess and I don’t think I will ever be able to process it in it’s entirety. The only characters I really like are Jenna, Carl, and TJ. God poor TJ… OK SO I WENT THROUGH ALL THE ROUTES AND JESUS FUCK I don’t think that my insanity will end anytime soon but Flynn’s route really fucked me up. Its so fucked, all you do is go around in circles AND I STILL NEVER GOT MY AWNSER IN HOW THE SMOKE ROOM LINKS INTO THIS LIKE WHY IS SAMUEL POSSESSING CHASE AND EVENTUALLY FLYNN???

WAS IT TO CONTINUE THE CYCLE OF VIOLENCE AND SECRETS THAT ECHO LIVES ON??? god its so fucked, and Flynn actually becomes the monster Jenna talks about and TJ saw the day Sydney drowned in his endless pursuit of the truth of what happened as he wanders into the mines and turns into the plug-faced monster (prolly a wendigo) Jenna mentioned. So many questions… God its so fucked Speaking of The Smoke Room…

The Smoke Room is set 100 years before Echo and focuses on the ancestors of the main cast as well as the locals of Echo in 1915. Following an Albino Mountain Lion sex worker by the name of Samuel who was trying to leave Echo, but was ambushed by the guy who was helping him and out of self defense killed him in the mine. This murder sets the town ablaze with problems as Samuel and his associates encounter something is unleashed and latches onto a guilty party.

At this point, I just looked at Clifford’s route because he is admittedly adorable but kinda stopped there.

Then while browsing other Visual Novels I found this fucking affront to god only to find out its in The Smoke Room

And holy fuck I thought it was bad on my phone but it is so much worse on my computer. Something in the mines where I think Sam, one of his closest clients a badger that goes by Nikolai and a tiger named Yao are trying to escape the deeper part of the mines or something. What’s even worse is that it looks to be made from body parts of the main cast which is so fucked up in so many ways.

Then we have Arches and Route 65. Arches follows a bear and a coyote named Devon and Cameron in the town of Echo after its been abandoned in 2015. All I know is that the Coyote gets rufied and ends up dead in the mines. Route 65 is an actual prequel looking at the main cast of Echo at a Halloween party in 2008. Don’t remember what happens in this one other than character setup. ANYWAY, echo aside now I can talk about The Burrows.

This one I know from an artist that I like going by Captain Nikko. The Burrows follows Grey, a possum living in New Orleans in 1928. On his way to commit suicide, he stops into a bar run by a round rabbit named Virgil. He makes a deal with Virgil and he gives Grey a card and after a trippy sequence of infinitely falling, he finds himself in front of his old house in a field of yellow flowers. He meets 4 other souls, Mark a Maned Fox who works in a museum in New York, Gabriel a shark training for his school’s swim relay race, Ken a panther who is a cyclist, and Yasahiro a Japanese fennec fox that is an engineer.

When they suddenly disappear with Grey crying, the card Virgil gave Grey begins to glow and 4 other cards appear. Each of them have unique designs for each character, Though only Ken Gabriel and Mark are available at the moment. Each card Zaps Grey into the future with the order being Ken (1958), Mark (1965), and Gabriel (1987). You then find out that the reason that they are linked together is suicide. Grey then becomes determined to protect the character you chose. At this point, you go through the route, make important choices that affect the outcome of the route (only in mark’s route though as of late) and grow close to who you chose. I eventually broke down and downloaded The Burrows and played through the new content of Gabriel’s route and got damn i am unashamedly attached to this man. Like, he reminds me of myself of one point body image issues, feeling useless, jovial bastard. Mark has some pretty weird vibes that he gives off, lot of questions for him that will be answered hopefully soon. Ken is just really damn mean and beats the hell outta some kid that was messing his bike up. Hiro doesn’t have a route out yet so we know next to nothing about him other than he’s working with a german engineering company and he is thinking of committing suicide.

I would totally recommend The Burrows and not for you to binge the entire Echo project saga at 4 in the damn morning.

#spoilers #echo #route 65 #arches #the smoke room #the burrows #furry #visual novel #vn

[bryanlyon]

Thoughts on Adastra

Disclaimers:

1. This is going to have spoilers for the entirety of Adastra, as well as marked spoilers for Echo and The Smoke Room. Not sure why you'd read an Adastra analysis if you haven't read Adastra, so this shouldn't be a deal breaker.

2. I'm not gonna do that weird bullshit people do in analysis where they just summarize the entire plot. Again, the audience of this analysis is people who have read Adastra, so a summary doesn't add anything.

"Ad astra" is a Latin phrase meaning "to the stars". Sometimes it was used literally, to mean something going up or even potentially going into space, and sometimes it was used metaphorically to mean something going to greatness. It's either a beautiful coincidence or a genius move by Howly, writer of Adastra, that the most common English phrase with "to the stars" is "I love you to the stars and back", whereas Latin phrases are mostly used in modern day by neo-nazis.

Intentional or not this reflects the main thing Adastra is about: a character who has been taught not to love trying to become better, and a society that is deeply ingrained in fascism trying to become better. Focus is also placed on the way these two things relate to each other: an Amicus who becomes increasingly loving and open is more capable of making a more progressive and free society, and a more progressive and free society enables characters to become more open and loving. 

This is demonstrated well by the differences and similarities between Amicus and Cassius with their pets. Both of them have a pet who is a sibling or sibling level intelligence, but Cassius, constantly needing to perform strength to build towards a fascist state, has a strained, abusive, master/slave relationship with his pet. Amicus has the opposite kind of relationship. In line with his progressive ideals for the world, Amicus tries as best as he can within their system to treat Marco like an equal, and even gives Marco choices and requires his consent to do anything with him (SIDENOTE 1).

In this way Adastra is very comparable to The Wall by Pink Floyd to me. We see the way the political and personal affect each other, and one side is clearly presented as the better option (in both cases, a more progressive and liberal society, and a more caring and open personal life). Where Adastra stands head and shoulders above something like The Wall is in the additional commentary on society it gives while saying this.

Adastra does something I greatly appreciate in art: extremely not subtle metaphors and symbolism. The siblings have a rivalry between each other because each of them wants to impress the parents more than the others. One of the key methods they use to do this is having children, which they see not as people, but as workers and status symbols to impress their parents and outdo the other siblings. Eventually one of the siblings realize that their goal never should have been to impress the parents, but to better themselves. After realizing this they begin to cooperate with the other siblings, treat the children like people, and urge the other siblings to do the same. This is all so on-the-nose that I don't think it needs any explanation.

What might need explanation is the Other. If it weren't for the stylization of always capitalizing Other I'd think it was a coincidence. Because they stylized it like that, I can say with certainty this is a reference to Hegelian philosophy. In Hegelian philosophy the Other is a part of the Other-Self dialectic. The Other is things outside of ourselves and the Self is things within ourselves. The dialectic is the process by which we integrate things outside of ourselves to become better people.

Where I'm almost certain Howly is familiar with the concept from is pop-philosopher Slavoj Zizek. Zizek argued that this concept should be applied on a societal level when it comes to diversity. He says that where conservatives are at fault is that they don't want to integrate the Other at all, and where liberals are at fault is that they remove the Other from its Otherness (that is, they want people who are different to lose the parts of themselves that make them different in the first place).

Adastra's supernatural entity called The Other is treated by societies the same way the Hegellian Other is treated by them. The Khemians have been learning about The Other and how their society can adapt for it for a long time, whereas Adastrans don't even consider The Other until Amicus becomes emperor.

I can't say much more about this theme until we're further into the sequels, as what The Other is and what it does is yet to be seen, but stay tuned for that!

Lastly, I don't think it can or should be ignored that Adastra presents itself as a porn game. The game has several illustrated sex scenes, the main initial draw of the game is Amicus' fat cock, and everyone I know who played the game found it initially because they saw Haps' porn account on Twitter and thought his art was really good. There's nothing wrong with this! It's totally in line with the game's themes that the game itself is totally aware that, to some degree, it's a porn game, but it also tries to be much more than just a porn game.

Adastra can't be removed from its origins in the furry subculture. The furry subculture is an oft ridiculed and looked down upon loose group of people who are largely queer, largely counter-culture, largely ultra-progressive, and who like talking animals. If you know anything about furries, you know that they make a lot of porn of their talking animal characters.

Ordinary people ridicule furry porn often for being very weird (it is), but I think it's also a cool and important part of our culture. A whole subculture of traumatized, queer, arrested development people use the medium of furry porn as a type of escape from that life. This is largely because in furry porn the sexual fantasies of gay mentally ill manchildren are realized in a grand and superb way.

Adastra isn't alone in integrating its sex into its storytelling, and I actually think The Smoke Room and Echo both do it better.

ECHO AND TSR SPOILERS

With Echo we see this in Flynn using hypersexuality as a coping mechanism, Leo's exhibitionism acting as his only escape from his otherwise lonely and closed off life, and the shame that Carl and TJ carry due to their sexualities. The Smoke Room goes even further in using sexuality with its character development. Murdoch has no control over his day to day life, so he sees pleasing other men sexually as a way he can have control over others, the irony of this being that his most frequent sexual partner is one he only has sex with because he's externally coerced into it. William's character arc arguably centers around the fact that he's terrible at sex and refuses to do anything to make his partners happy at the risk that that would make him gay.

END OF ECHO AND TSR SPOILERS

In Adastra, Amicus hilariously declares that "emperors don't put things in their ass", and a major part of his growth as a character is that he gets over himself to such an extent that he eventually offers, reluctantly nonetheless, to bottom for Marco. Using sex as an integral part of the storytelling shows how Howly has integrated the Otherness of furry porn with the Self of writing a damn good somewhat traditional story. Integrating these two usually clashing things isn't weird or a problem for Adastra, it's something that should be celebrated. It should be celebrated that Adastra both made me want to see how Amicus can retake his rightful place as emperor and better the world around him while also making me want to see how much Amicus cums from a prostate orgasm.

It might go without saying since I wrote this much, but I think Adastra is really fucking amazing. It's cheesey as all hell, tacky, and littered with plot holes, but if you're going into a furry porn game looking for plot holes you aren't outsmarting the game, it's outsmarting you. Amicus is a surprisingly deep and likable character, the plot kept me engaged, and for God knows what reason Howly put in the work to make the game smart as hell and deep as fuck.

It could be argued that Amicus was not treating Marco like this because of his ideals but because of his self-perception. After Marco learns Amicus is gay Amicus cowers and asks if Marco is disgusted with him now. Given that the power dynamics of sexuality are so strong on Adastra that they make a 7 foot tall wolf emperor cower to a twink slave, it stands to reason that Amicus might have just not forced himself upon Marco because he was afraid of a slave being able to leverage his sexuality against him. Further, it could be the case that Amicus wanted to treat Marco as an equal because after being humiliated for his sexuality as a teenager he no longer felt as though he could have complete control over other people the way that other wolf royalty do. I think this is all not just plausible, but true. I think these, in addition to Amicus' ideals, contributed to the way he treated Marco.

#adastra #echoproject

[enbysiriusblack]

wolfstar one-shot:

(the translation from Latin is in these // and will be straight after the Latin part. I also don't know that much Latin so some of the Latin i searched on a website and may be inaccurate)

Remus Lupin was anti-social. He avoided seeing people, talking to people and being surrounded by people. So he spent the majority of time in his flat he shared with Lily and James. He would go out of his way to avoid having to talk to people, which resulted in him becoming fluent in Latin, the dead language. He would speak Latin whenever someone tried to speak to him as there would be hardly anyone who understood him, and he could therefore get out of any and all social interactions.

It was Sunday, and Remus had a day off his work. So, as usual he had planned to sleep for half the day. However, around 8am there was rather loud shouting outside his room, waking him up way to early. So while he plotted the death of James Potter for disturbing his sleep, the noise got louder and louder.

Remus opened his bedroom door after getting dressed for the day and glared at James, who was casually holding their TV in his arms while he was pushing some guy away from him with his legs. The stranger had black hair that laid at his shoulders, multiple tattoo's popped out from his rolling stones t-shirt, he had left his leather jacket laying on their sofa and was currently trying to lunge at James only to be pushed backwards again and again.

James suddenly noticed Remus' presence in the room and as he kicked the other guy backwards once more, he turned to face Remus and tried to act nonchalant.

"Hey Moony, this is Sirius my unbiological brother. He's trying to steal our TV to watch some dumb show" James said, still holding the big TV on his arms but was slowly losing his grip on it.

Sirius jumped over the sofa to introduce himself, however as Sirius held out his hand and grinned at him, Remus started to once again, speak in Latin to avoid a social interaction.

Remus folded his arms round himself and said "ego postulo scelerisque" //I need chocolate//, one of the most common sentences that Remus says.

However to Remus' surprise, the stranger laughed and replied "ego habio scelerisque, vis aliqua?" //I have chocolate, do you want some?//. Remus unfolded his arms, as James smirked at them and shouted "hah, your plans not foolproof remmy boy, go socialize with him" and he finally dropped the TV back down and strutted to the bedroom he shared with Lily.

The stranger picked up his jacket from the couch and put it back on, making his way to take the TV but as soon as his hands reached out for it, James shouted to him from his room that if he touches it he will indeed perish. So the stranger flipped off the closed bedroom door and made his way back to Remus.

"So do you speak English or do you only understand it?" The stranger tilted his head, staring up at him. Remus frowned, unsure what do. "I- yeah I do, I uhh speak English" he replied, embarrassed and wanting to run back to his room.

The stranger grinned again, annoying remus once more. "Cool, I'm Sirius. Wanna hang out?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet of shoes and picking out a set he assumed was Remus' (it indeed was) and waking back over, giving the shoes to him. Then Sirius went back over, took the jean jacket of one of the coat hooks and handed that also to Remus. Then he went back to the couch, sitting on the side of it, swinging his legs back and forth and staring at Remus expectantly.

Remus rose his eyebrow at the boy and chuckled slightly. "You ask me if I want to hang out with you while you're giving me my coat and shoes so its more awkward if I say no. Deus, hoc peur" //god, this boy//.

Sirius jumped up off the sofa and walked back over to Remus. "So, is that a yes or a no the? possumus loqui latine cum nos ex, quod si facit vos magis consolatoria" //we can speak Latin when we are out, if it makes you more comfortable// Remus thought about it for a bit, and looked back at Sirius eager and enthusiastic face, it reminded him of a puppy wanting to go on a walk. Remus smiled and started to put on the shoes and jacket, to Sirius' delight.

They walked out of the flat, Sirius jumping around, and made their way to the elevator. As they went down to the bottom floor, Sirius started up a conversation in Latin. They walked over to a coffee shop and stopped there. Remus went to sit down after telling Sirius his order and a few hours later they left the coffee shop, both knowing so much about the other after their non stop conversation.

Remus felt drained afterwards and as they made their way back to the flat, Sirius realised this and said goodbye to Remus, texting James not to bother him when he got back there. Remus smiled and started to walk in the building before turning back round and catching Sirius climbing onto his bike. He pulled his hand back from the door and ran after him.

Sirius lifted the helmet back off his head as Remus caught up to him. He frowned, confused as too why Remus wasn't going inside. "numquid oblivisci aliquid" //did i forget something?// he said, eyebrow raised.

Remus bit his lip, "etiam" //yes// he replied and grabbed Sirius hand, pulling him off the motorbike and into the building. Remus still clutched onto his hand as he guided him into the elevator and clicked the button to his apartment floor. "You forgot the television, dumbass" he said, trying and failing to hide a grin on his face. Sirius laughed, "you're letting me have it?"

Remus shook his head "of course not, its not yours. But, you can come watch your show in the flat with me... if you uhh,, want to that is?" Sirius grinned, "of course I do, are you sure you want me to though?". Remus pulled him out of the elevator, nodding his head.

They sat on the couch next to each other, watching the show Sirius was willing to steal for. Remus turned his head, watching Sirius laugh at the TV, and thought about the boy.

It was the first day they had met but Remus knew. He looked at the other boy, his black hair stroking his shoulders, his silver starlike eyes glued to the TV screen, his lips, god he wanted to kiss him.

He knew it in that moment. Watching Sirius laughing at a stupid joke some character made in a nonsense tv show and sing along to the annoying theme tune. He knew it.

Volo quod unus. Amicus meus, Socius meus, Vitae meae sodalis. Aeternum.

Lunam et Stellas.

Lupus et Sidus.

Lupus Stella.

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #marauders era #hp marauders #harry potter marauders #harry potter fandom #harry potter #sirius black one shot #remus lupin one shot #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #marauders

[some-kind-of-starlight]

The Carousel Kingdom, Chapter One- How The Rollercoaster Starts

Virgil Parma just wanted to have a nice day at the fair with his friend Patton- but the universe had other plans. It all begins with a little red carousel- and, like a carousel, the story spins onward.

Word Count: 1,930 (which, despite it only being chapter one, makes this the longest story I’ve ever written!) Characters: Virgil, Patton, random OC who runs a bakery with their girlfriend Warnings: brief description of heights, overthinking, mention of a cliff (please tell me if I need to add anything else!) Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety & Logicality, platonic Moxiety for this chapter

Enjoy!

Virgil Parma liked constants.

The purple lamp, always sitting on his nightstand. The clock on his wall, always five minutes behind. The mug in the kitchen, always left out for the next morning.

It was the little things, grounding him and reminding him that his world wasn't going to be flipped upside-down on a whim.

Well. As he thought.

It's not what he would have expected, at least, as he heard a familiar knock at the front door.

Rushing from his bedroom to open it, he was met with the smiling face of his friend Patton Coeur- and, not a second later, two slips of paper being shoved in his face.

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed excitedly. "Are you ready to go to the fair? I brought the tickets," he wove the paper around," and some snacks!" he said, bouncing the bag on his shoulder to show his point. "So all you need to bring is yourself! And, uh, maybe a water bottle. We don't want you getting dehydrated!"

Virgil leaned off the doorframe and made a movement back towards his bedroom. "Yeah, Pat, just let me grab my bag." He darted to his room and grabbed the backpack off his chair, giving it a quick check to affirm everything was inside, then started back to the door.

"I, uh," Virgil started, making his way back to Patton, "actually packed some snacks and stuff too. And I thought it'd probably be a good idea to bring something to calm me down just in case, so..." he held up a plastic fidget cube. Patton nodded approvingly.

"Good idea, Virge! And the water bottles?"

"Already in here," Virgil stated, tapping his bag softly.

"Great! Then if you're ready, let's go!"

Virgil stepped out the door and pushed it softly closed, locking it and linking arms with Patton as he turned around.

The two walked and chatted amiably, Patton talking about the bakery their old friends had started- "They have the best muffins, Virge, and everyone is so nice! I was thinking about applying for a job there later in the summer, it seems like it'd be a good place to work!", as well as recounting a book he'd been reading about emotional intelligence.

Virgil nodded along, giving positive affirmations and mentioning the song he'd been working on lately- "I think it's going pretty well, there's a couple lyrics I could probably fix, but it's doing pretty good for the most part. It probably won't be much longer before you can hear it." Patton smiled proudly at him, gently bumping Virgil's shoulder and telling him he couldn't wait.

After fifteen minutes or so, the pair reached the entrance to the fair. It wasn't very big, but it looked packed with activity- and the place felt homely, in a way, with the rolling fields beneath them and the familiar rides glinting in the summer sun.

Patton stepped up to the booth at the gate and placed the two tickets on the counter, gently tapping it as he did so. The person inside quickly turned from the computer they sat at, smiling when they saw him.

"Patton! Good to see you here!", they said as they took the tickets and scanned them with the computer. "Good to see you too, Amicus!" Patton replied. "How's Token of Confection doing?"

Amicus withdrew two wristbands from a nearby drawer before turning back to Patton. "Good! Amelie figured out a new chocolate sugar cookie recipe the other day, you've got to check it out next time you stop by!" Amicus turned to Virgil. "How's it going, Virgil? Been a while since I last saw you!"

"It's going pretty alright," Virgil supposed. "Guess you're doing pretty well too? You seem happy."

"Can you hold out your wrist for a second?" Amicus interrupted, holding up a wristband. "Great! Yeah, I'm doing good! Amelie and I are happy together and we've been working on getting our baking business rolling." Amicus tucked the bracelet around Virgil's wrist and motioned for Patton to hold up his own.

"I'd love to be there now, but my mom wanted me to run the ticket booth for the first couple days. I'll be back at Token of Confection soon enough though! Can't wait to be back in the kitchen with Amelie. I promised her I'd bring her some cotton candy, she wants to try to figure out how to incorporate it into some sugar cookies." Amicus smiled fondly as they sealed the wristband around Patton's arm. "She's so creative. I'm glad we found each other."

"And we're glad you're happy!" Patton beamed at them as he withdrew his arm. "Are we all set?"

"You are! Have a good day!" Amicus gave a quick wave before turning back to the computer behind them.

"Nice to see that they're doing well," Virgil mentioned as they entered the fairgrounds. "I can see why you'd want to work at a place called Token of Confection. That name is right up your alley."

"Isn't it? I was so excited when I found out that's what they were calling it. It's such a cute name!"

"It is. So," Virgil said suddenly, "what should we do first?"

"Oh! Uh, how about we go on the ferris wheel?" Patton pointed at the ride in question. "We can get a good view of the park and then decide from there!"

"Smart idea, Pat, sounds good to me. Let's go!"

It was a short walk to the ferris wheel, and luckily the line wasn't too long. Patton and Virgil didn't have to stand around much before they found themselves seated in a car and the ferris wheel beginning to turn.

"Oh, Virgil, look!" Patton motioned to the ground below. "They've got one of those teacup rides! Ooh, and a slide! We should go on that first, it looks like it's closer to here."

Virgil gave him an affirmative thumbs-up before peering out of the car himself. As they rose off the ground, he could see the slide and teacups Patton had mentioned, excited people racing about between the rides. Out a little further, he could see the peaceful rolling fields around them, houses dotting the horizon line. They were like two opposite worlds. And in between them...

Well.

That was odd.

On the edge of the cliff that the fairgrounds sat upon was a small carousel. It was a good ways away from the fair itself, still only a few seconds' walking distance, but obviously not meant to be a part of the festivities. Its faded red tent was torn in several places- and badly enough that Virgil could tell from so far up.

It was... strange, to say the least.

"Virgil!" The sudden outburst from Patton interrupted his thoughts. "What's got you fascinated over there, spot something cool?

"There's this weird carousel over there, set away from everything else. Do you see it?" Virgil did his best to point out the little red tent to his friend. Patton squinted as he followed his finger to the carousel.

"Oh! There it is! It's so cute and tiny!"

Virgil laughed. "Yeah, I guess it is. I hadn't thought about it that way. Kinda weird that it's set apart from the fair, though, isn't it?"

"It looks kinda old, maybe it stopped working and they had to move it aside."

Virgil shrugged. "That'd make sense. Still, I think I'm gonna go check it out when we're back on the ground."

"I'll come with you! Maybe we'll find something interesting!"

"Interesting" was one way to put it, Virgil thought.

Now that the pair was standing in front of the carousel, they could see all the intricacies they had missed from the ferris wheel. Golden filigree bordered the tent, as well as the base, and the poles were the same shining color. Though the tent was faded and damaged, flecks of glitter still glinted in the fabric, and the underside of the canopy was dyed a beautiful midnight black. After a bit more scouring, Virgil even noticed a golden carousel ring sitting in a slot inside the frame of the tent.

But perhaps the most intriguing things were the intricate painting in the center pole and the frontmost carousel horse. The center pole was decorated by a beautiful painting of a castle, surrounded by beautiful skies that wrapped seamlessly around it. Fluffy clouds floated by gently in the background. Virgil was tempted to reach out and touch them.

The horse, on the other hand, was intriguing for different reasons. It was the most detailed out of the horses on the carousel- intricate roses were carved into its flowing hair, and a bright ribbon of fabric was draped from the saddle. Virgil swore you could see threads etched into the wood if you looked close enough. The poles that were supposed to carry the horse seemed loose, as if a hole was cut out of the pole and the horse haphazardly shoved between, rather than going through the wooden carving.

And, perhaps the most odd thing- while the others looked worn and dull, this one looked almost new. A fine layer of dust coated it, but Virgil had given it a quick swipe with his hand and the paint had looked crisp and bright underneath.

All of it just made Virgil more confused. He leaned against the carousel pole and hit his head against it lightly with a soft thunk.

A soft hand fell upon his shoulder and Virgil jumped before realizing it was just Patton.

"Hey, Pat."

"Hey, Virge. You doing alright? I saw you bonking your head on the pole I was getting kinda worried." Patton gently lifted his head off the pole as he spoke. Virgil only tightened his grip on it.

"It's just so strange, Patton. This random carousel is just here, with one weirdly-new looking horse," he clapped his hand gently against the pole for emphasis, "away from the fair it's assumably supposed to be at. And it doesn't." *thunk.* "make." *thunk.* "sense." *thunk.*

Patton gently guided his hands off the pole and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I know, V. It is weird. But sometimes weird things happen, and they don't need some big, cosmic explanation- you just saw them in a weird place at a weird time. Someone was probably trying to replace the horses and realized they didn't know how, or they didn't have time to finish before the fair opened."

Virgil nodded. As much as the explanation didn't satisfy him, as much as he wished it would- he supposed he had to walk away eventually. And Patton's reason was a better reason than none.

Virgil sighed, wearily, and made to take a step back- but before he did so, he brushed the dirt gently off of the horse's forehead and rested his own upon it. A tribute to a mystery unsolved or a mystery nonexistent- he didn't know which. He supposed it didn't matter.

Virgil stepped away, linking his arm with Patton's as they turned back to the fair. But before they could take a step, a bright light shone in the corners of their eyes.

They turned around just in time to see the carousel horse glow, in a second turning into a jumble of light, tumbling off the carousel and coming to rest at their feet. And in the blink of an eye the light was gone again, fading away to reveal- not something, really- but a someone.

Their eyes snapped open and fearful gold irises met Virgil's own.

And in that moment, Virgil's world was flipped upside-down.

#prinxiety #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #ts virgil #ts patton #logicality #The Carousel Kingdom #amicus #I wanted the person in the ticket booth to be someone patton knew so I just looked up friend in latin #I don't even know if that's the correct translation but it sounds cool #amelie #stories and stardust

[tales-from-exo-planet]

ARIZONA || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. Amicus curiae Length - 6502 Mood - Lament, Remorse Pairing - Chanyeol x Reader

Warning - Language 

“When I close my eyes Slow it’s your voice again Your breath, your smile touch me again On my lips Flow your name again I’m holding it so full, I run as fast as possible like I’m gonna explode”

“I Just” by Red Velvet - ——————————–

October

“Don’t just leave me here waiting and never come back,” you said the last time you saw him.

In the twilight he was with you and in the morn you saw his beam of ghost light, obliterating what had been shadows.

In the darkness, he returned to you, gentle and shy.

And at first light he was cold and rough once more.

Had you dreamed him?

Had you dreamed his smile?

Had you dreamed his laugh?

Had you dreamed his voice?

It was so beautiful to imagine him sleeping.

Curled into himself around his own heart, waiting for you to find him once again in dreamland.

Sleeping deeply within your womb where he first came to be.

It was so beautiful to imagine him sleeping within you, also.

Resting inside your heart, breathing his reviving breath of fire into you and restarting the electric mechanism of your heart beat when you felt yourself giving up.

“So did you speak with him?” Your lawyer asked you as soon as you sat down for lunch on the terrace just outside his office.

Well gee.

“Yes I spoke with him,” you answered, shuffling notes that you kept as the proceedings were soon to begin.

After each meeting you typed the notes up neatly until slim stacks of graying notes with frayed edges had grown inside your room resembling a small dismal forest.

You had half a mind to recycle them so they wouldn’t take over the floor space, blocking your path from the window.

But at night when you couldn’t sleep or when they returned to you but refused to stay, you woke and reached with your eyes closed for the top page of the stack right beside your bed, and read the notes once again.

Picking up one page and placing it atop your bare skin, until the stack pressed its weight against your stomach making your breath labored.

But it was the only way to feel.

To remember what it had been like.

You let them rest there until your fight or flight response kicked in and you had to push the papers off of you hearing their slight flutter before they crashed to the floor.

And then you’d get up like you did this morning and put them back in order, taking a small stack with you to your next meeting to begin the routine once again.

“And?” He asked pointedly, pausing to unfold his napkin and place it gingerly on his lap.

You sighed again.

Did he really think that you would be sitting here alone, if anything changed?

Why was this man recommended to me?

“He said he has to speak with-”

“His people. Figures. Damn it. You need another witness other than your best friend and the owner of the lounge. The more angles we can add to your character profile, the better we can defend your initial claim…” he cut in as he sliced through his rare steak.

You averted your eyes as the blood spurted from his lips, and dripped down his chin.

He carried on for a moment, gnashing his teeth, and slurping unabashedly his wine before he spoke again.

“What does he want? Could you smooth things over? I remember you telling me that you hadn’t talked in awhile…” his gaze was fixed on you even as he brought another forkful of steak, and asparagus to his mouth.

“He doesn’t want anything…” and he smirked at you as if you were purposefully withholding the truth.

How dare you…

“Oh he doesn’t? Well…maybe you could find something to interest him-”

You popped up from the table immediately to slap him across the face but he grabbed your wrist.

“Listen. We’re desperate right now. Your sister’s sudden blabbering blubbering insanity fucking defense is going to put your ass in jail or a fucking needle in your arm. This isn’t a game. You say that those texts from your ex were fabricated but so far we aren’t able to counteract it. We need him. You need to figure it out. And quickly,” he had gradually released his terse grip but the clasp of his hand on your wrist remained as absolutely firm as shackles, his eyes boring into your own to make his message clear.

And you hated that there were tears in your eyes.

But he was right.

Your best friend had said the same when she came to bring you dinner again a few days earlier in the past week.

“You could at least eat the corner pieces of the lasagna I brought. To not even eat the corners is a waste of all my time and energy,” she had frowned in an attempt to pull your laughter from your gut.

You obliged her with a curt smile since the small middle portion you took from her 13”/9” pan had been plenty satisfying until you threw up.

She waited another beat before speaking again.

“So nothing still huh?” She asked as she cleaned the counter tops down and washed the dishes.

“No Susie Q, nothing still,” you mimicked her purposeful bright nasal tone hearing a laugh fall out of her as she returned to her normal speaking voice.

“Wow…what is his deal? Where was the guy who….” she stopped when you shook your head, placing your hands up in front of your shattering face.

You couldn’t hear her drop everything and rush to you. It was if everything was muted.

She wrapped herself around you where you sat at the kitchen island, helping you up to the couch only a couple steps away where you descended, sinking as deep as you could.

“I don’t even know what to say…” she whispered as you cried but you snuffled and sucked in enough air to say, “I’m not asking anyone to say anything except the truth. How…how is the truth so hard to say?”

“I don’t know…” she sighed, cuddling you while she held your hand in hers.

“I’m sorry ________,” she whispered and you sucked in another painful breath of air.

“The worst part is that I dream about the night before everything changed. Remember? We had just hung up and I was putting the baby to bed and you kept teasing me saying that I should just hop on a flight…that I could be there in the morning and that…” you couldn’t speak his name but you could see him.

You could feel him.

Pressing down on your stomach again.

Here I am Mommy!

Peekaboo.

“And that….he would sleep through the whole flight and by the afternoon you could be with him…and it would be like Christmas morning a couple days earlier…remember you teased me about buying a ticket? Remember?” And she hushed you, holding your hand to her own heart.

Reach inside and have some of my strength.

“And now…?” You laughed at yourself derisively.

“I’m not trying to scare you…” your lawyer said as he let you go and went back to tearing apart his steak on the terrace floor of his office.

“And I’m not trying be crass…but I need you to take this seriously. If you hadn’t talked to him yet or if you have and he’s dicking you around…then grab hold of him and demand a fucking answer. Your life depends on it,” he exhaled and belched loudly, before picking his teeth and resuming his routine while looking over his notebook.

You were unceremoniously dismissed.

As soon as you hopped into your car, you called him once again only to get his voicemail.

Even when you called him at his extension.

Could he be that busy?

It was overwhelming enough that your lawyer was chewing you out for failing to get this last piece of testimony that you needed.

Your lawyer hadn’t been able to get through to his people either.

But for him to not respond now?

Of all the times.

Focus on your breathing, you reminded yourself again as you took some deep breaths before putting your car in drive and heading in his direction.

————————————–

“Hey _______,” MQ gave you that look again.

Pitiful.

“Hey…look I know I just called but I just wanted to be sure. I need to know,” you said, standing up straight and looking him in the eye.

Yea I may be but I won’t give up.

It was too hot but you would wait.

He sighed again, scratching the back of his bleached blonde hair underneath his ball cap.

“Well…he’s working on a project right now. I can see if he has a moment-”

“I can wait outside,” you said once again, stepping down from the entrance he was standing in.

He nodded, wincing a little as he closed the door.

You sat at the front step, going through your list of things to do in your head again before you heard the door click.

You turned, and readied yourself to greet him.

And when you laid eyes on him again it was like years had passed between you.

He smiled at you as he always had but it was as if you were looking at a photograph. As if you captured this moment so many decades ago and were turning to this fond memory once again for old times sake, fondling it’s curling crinkled edges before putting it between the sleeves of time that you would return to when you were feeling that aching nostalgic feeling again.

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away…

“Hey _______, you can come in. It’s cold out here,” he said waving you inside.

You hesitated for a moment but only a moment.

“Thank you. I didn’t want to disturb you,” you smiled appreciative that he stood back to let you inside. You could feel the heat of him roiling around you even at this distance.

And to deny that you missed him was a fool’s errand.

But you didn’t have to succumb to it.

This time.

Like last time.

Next time.

Or ever.

There were much heavier pains on your heart nowadays anyway.

He brought you further into the studio, and you let your eyes linger here and there as you trailed closed behind him remembering when you finally came to see what he had built the first time you came to ask for his help.

He hadn’t been galloping to get into the conference room then.

He had taken his time walking you through each part his living heart.

As soon as you were within the door, he closed it and you didn’t waste time either.

The design of this room always reminded you of a modern counselor’s office.

And the design of this room was unlike any other you had seen during your initial tour with its light pewter white furniture and bare open space.

Chanyeol stood before you with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his crisp black slacks; the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up to reveal his veiny forearms.

It looked like he had been wearing a tie earlier and had discarded it when he began working in the studio.

Though the general atmosphere of Metamorphosis was subdued, you could hear the rising and falling of voices sounding from the deeper recesses of the building.

Perhaps there was an important meeting taking place with an important client that you had called him away from?

The possibility of disturbing his productive space did trouble you but your resolve was firm nonetheless.

Please…please just give me a straight answer and I’ll go…

Please.

He stood watching you, waiting for you to speak.

His small smile which initially appeared warm when he first invited you in just minutes ago began to seem uncertain if not worried in the silence punctuated by every soundless breath you both took as you stood by the doorway.

He removed one hand from the pocket of his slacks, revealing the tattoo that graced his right forearm as he gestured towards the opposing sofa where you could sit.

“Please,” he barely spoke above a whisper and yet you moved as if you were summoned by a booming command, sitting down as gently and quietly as you could.

“Have you had a chance to speak with Minseok?” You asked, your tone matter of fact, and his smile fell immediately.

But you couldn’t be sure whether he had wanted to play a game of “hey let’s catch up” or if he just didn’t want to answer you yet.

Had he been avoiding your phone calls just to lure you back?

As if he needed to do that.

Ha, ha.

“I spoke to him,” was all he said sounding thoroughly unamused before sitting on the sofa himself, crossing one leg over the over and dipping his head back against the back of the chair.

That chair, like him, was one of the biggest things in this room.

But the cavern between you took the first prize.

What a difference time makes.

“I know that I’m asking a lot of you. I know what you’re risking. But I need your help. Chanyeol please-”

You saw a slight smirk crease his lips as he tipped his chin down and lowered his gaze to you.

“I’m sorry is something funny?” You asked, feeling the heat rising within your cheeks.

“It’s just all so familiar but I’m pretty sure I’ve only lived this one life. Am I dreaming..” he laughed at his own joke.

“Chanyeol…”

He nodded, shaking his head into his hands.

“I know…I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said peering up at you, searching for your pain even though you knew it was plain to see.

If it colored the very green of the grass and bluish white of your sky, the pain had to be in your eyes, didn’t it?

How could he not see?

“So can you? I need to know…now…” you said, and were sickened by the smirk resurfacing once again.

“Chanyeol…”

“So now you can make demands. Now there is something about me that you want and need?” He asked, taking his time with the syllable of each word.

You weighed the pros and cons of crossing the room and slapping him across the face or just walking out.

“Listen…”

“Oh I’m listening, I’m listening _______,” he whispered, looking up at you from where he sat, his chin anchored atop his folded hands and crossed legs.

“Don’t fuck with me Chanyeol. Just tell me no, if that’s the answer,” you started but he started laughing aloud then.

“Ugh fuck this…” you groaned turning to speed out the door and back to your empty room with your empty crib beside your empty desk with your empty page of trustworthy witnesses.

You made it to the door just as he pressed it closed.

And whirled on him, raising your hand to smack him.

But he caught you as you were bringing your hand up and pinned you against the wall.

“I needed you too…” was all he said and all you didn’t want to hear.

“We’ve been over this already,” you grunted, pushing yourself forward so as to set him off balance.

You were both panting wildly.

Chanyeol pushed his hair back along his forehead, his nostrils flared as he blew out a steady stream of hot air.

“I can’t help you this time and it’s not because I don’t want to…” he whispered more to himself than to you.

Is that your final answer?

You lost your footing, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll.

But he caught you as you descended, crashing with you on the floor.

But you pushed him away, and waited for his explanation that was sure to follow.

“I can’t put everyone at risk like I used to,” he said but then looked at you like he forgot that he wasn’t alone.

You’ve had your time to rehearse.

It’s showtime!

Show me what you’re made of!

“That’s low,” you glared at him even as you saw the apology in his eyes.

But is it?

“But I did. I am being strongly advised to provide you a written statement at the most. It’s out of my hands,” he murmured and you couldn’t stop the tears then.

It had been months since you buried Darcy within a closed casket.

It had been months since the start of the trial to bring your sister to justice.

It had been weeks since she had suddenly mounted an insanity defense, brazenly claiming one day that you and your ex had set her up.

That he sent her texts after your son was gone that you two had planned your mother’s death, and were going to cash in on the life insurance policy that would erase your debts and take care of your son.

You had been without air since your baby breathed his last breath but her claim and the flash of those fabricated text messages across the projector screen within the court room sucked the remaining oxygen from your blood.

You had been running around since then begging for a pure source of air somewhere, anywhere.

To have lost everything the moment his soul left this place was to have lost every sense of direction.

But it wasn’t out of Chanyeol’s hands.

Of that you were sure.

In that moment, as you looked at him you believed that he refused to make a decision.

He couldn’t risk his studio.

He couldn’t risk his artists’ reputation nor his own.

He couldn’t risk the bustling empire he was part of and the colleagues he would be letting down.

Colleagues, listen to you tell it.

His family.

Family.

One plus one plus one could have made…

He couldn’t risk walking away from you either.

He couldn’t risk losing what little of the memory there was of what had been.

You wondered if he heard you like you heard him.

Echoing from the faded photographs spinning in and out of focus.

His moans.

His sighs.

His laughter.

His smiles.

His silence.

His anger.

You heard his voice when closed your eyes between the stillness of your apartment singing to your baby as he put him to sleep that Thanksgiving.

He had stayed behind for Chuseok and Thanksgiving that year just for you.

Just for what you thought you had been building.

The promise of it so sweet and palpable that he had risked it all for once upon a time.

Now you stood in your forest of barren memories watching his receding back, howling after him, and willing him to stay.

And though it hurt you to admit it, you were angry because you knew why he laughed and smirked as you pleaded with him now.

What a monstrous pair.

You smelled the fumes of paranoia in your own hair.

The whole damned thing was maddening.

“Why did I even come here?” You pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, pressing your lids closed, forbidding yourself to whimper aloud.

You were both speaking to the lone souls within you that refused to acknowledge the soul within the same space.

He didn’t touch you but you felt the heat of his soul and his intent hovering around you, haunting you now in the present as he did in the aching absence.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered suddenly, leaning closer.

How?

Why closer?

And just as you looked up at him, just as he looked back into your blood red eyes through his own, just as you shifted closer, the door opened.

“I’m so sorry,” MQ stumbled in headfirst as if on a mission.

And the moment was gone.

Your souls spiraled from that meeting place.

The piercing wind of reality slicing through the forest of the barren tearing asunder what was.

You leaned away, shock slowly registering at the sight of Chanyeol wiping his eyes discreetly.

“We heard a crash. I wanted to make sure you guys were ok,” he apologized though he didn’t back out once he realized you had just collapsed on the floor and Chanyeol broke your fall.

“We?” Chanyeol chuckled to cover up his sniffling as another person entered the room.

She moved towards you both purposefully, bringing tissues and a water bottle for each of you.

Though she didn’t avoid your eyes, she didn’t let her gaze linger long.

She helped you up first, reaching for you, and giving you her hands to hold.

“Are you ok?” She asked you and when you nodded, taking the tissues and the water from her that she offered, she looked over at Chanyeol.

You were surprised at the sudden look of embarrassment on his face.

The way he brushed himself off and stood up as soon as her eyes touched him.

There was a world far far away where he existed now.

Of that you were entirely, and painfully aware.

And Chanyeol turned to look at you as if reaching back once again for the memories to explain them to one another.

To place them on the same table of consideration.

“We were just-”

“I was just-”

You both stopped.

“I’ve already sent the client home. We got the sample we need. They’re already scheduled to come back tomorrow. If you need to take a minute…then take it. By all means honestly. We can give you some privacy. We were just worried when we heard the crash,” she said.

Her tone was matter of fact but not without a hint of care.

You felt that in some way or another while he had never spoken about her to you, he had spoken about you to her.

Her eyes didn’t question who you were or why you were here.

She didn’t appear to be seeking an explanation from Chanyeol at all about why he had taken so long.

If anything she seemed intent on translating to Chanyeol that he needed to finish what was happening thoroughly and head back to work once he collected himself.

Chanyeol seemed unnerved by her presence, his previous unreserved cockiness had dwindled significantly.

It wasn’t that he cowered.

He stood erect as if to measure up to her expectations.

You recognized that searching, considerate gaze in his eyes.

That puppy dog need for approval.

So that’s it then?

But to you she didn’t look like…

But then again neither did you.

You stood with the bottle of water in your hands after stuffing a wad of tissues into your purse.

Leave now the way you should have left a long time ago.

But had you left then, would you have experienced the miracle of childbirth?

Would you have known such a sweet baby?

Would you have come to know him for however fleeting a moment it had been?

“I understand that I may have to accept a written statement. If that’s what you’re comfortable with then I’ll just have to ask my lawyer to be reasonable…” you said in front of all three of them.

You had no doubt that even if they hadn’t been listening on the other side of the door that they already knew what this meeting was about by the way she and MQ nodded.

And despite that you knew they had still been listening.

Or else why specifically bring water bottles and tissues?

For a crash wouldn’t you bring something else?

Chanyeol stood to acknowledge you.

“I’ll have it sent straight away,” he nodded and you could feel the energy passing over you to it’s intended source.

Even if she wasn’t his, he was molded by her the way you had molded him.

He shifted and shaped himself to accommodate you and what you envisioned him to be until all your modifications broke him.

And you were sorry for that.

And you hoped he knew as much.

That you didn’t blame him for stepping back and making a wide berth for the sour stench of guilt you paraded around now, waving it like the white flag of defeat that it was.

Mercy, Chanyeol.

Mercy.

Forgive me.

“I’ll walk you to-”

“Thank you for your time. Have a good evening,” pulling your pieces together, you mirrored Chanyeol’s icy smile.

MQ made to walk you down the hall but you shook your head at MQ, and set off on your own, straight for the door, holding the bottle of water like a spear.

You would just have to get ready for the storm to hit.

“Why are you looking at me like that? ________?” He asked you again.

You focused on the nachos you were chomping on before taking a sip of wine.

He was guilty of so many things and he wouldn’t acknowledge those.

Time and time and time again.

He would just give you that little knowing smile of his and that would be the end of it.

But this…this was a first.

It had only been a couple hours earlier in the afternoon that MQ interrupted your studio session to grab Chanyeol once again.

He whispered to him discreetly but Chanyeol still turned to him in horror that he would have the gall to whisper it in your presence.

And the whole parade of it, pissed you off.

“Why am I looking at you like what? Why am I looking through you?” You asked and he groaned, tossing back the last of his beer before standing to chuck it in the waste bin.

You had been helping him reorganize his session documentation for the last two hours after his visitor left and he hadn’t been able to sit still since she’d gone.

It was infuriating that even with so much knowledge and talent that he kept falling into the same cycle.

It was like he wanted to live this kind of trauma everyday. As if he thought he had to bear tragedy within his own life to be considered a legitimate artist.

Well here’s to living!

He’d been trying to tease you and refocus the conversation on the unspoken moment that happened between you all those years ago.

But you wouldn’t let him.

No matter what pain he was trying to escape, you were not going to allow him to hop from one stalled cycle to yours.

He had to grieve.

And he would learn to do it.

Just like you did.

“I can’t believe that you’re going to sit here and lie to her face about ‘Minseok says this and Minseok says that.’ I mean do you really think Minseok follows his own fucking rules that he sets for his employees?! How the fuck would he be so successful if he did? The rest of them fall in line so he can do what he needs to do…shit it’s probably written in their fucking contract,” you snapped and Chanyeol had the absolute nerve to look upset.

“Ok but everyone-”

“Oh please! Please tell me how it would affect everyone else Chanyeol. I’d love to hear how now out of all the times you’ve abandoned MQ to go sit with her that suddenly ‘everyone else.’” He was getting angrier by the second but you wanted him to explode. You were well barricaded and prepared for his implosion.

Better for him to make a mess of himself now than when shit really started hitting the fan.

He would be better for it if he just came to terms with himself and got over it.

“What the fuck is your problem?! You fucking waltzed in there talking about some… ‘well if you need anything, here I can help.’ As if you were fucking Mother Teresa incarnate. Like give me a fucking break,” he thundered and roared at you and you braced yourself as you raised up at him.

You heard MQ powering down the hallway outside your door for the front entrance.

Though it was faint you heard his clear “I’ll be back!” on his way out.

“I am tired of your games Chanyeol. You know good and well that it’s time for you to take ownership and not when someone has run you dry…”

“Oh you’re one to talk…” he started but you finished him with a glare.

“Don’t you ever fucking try it with me. You have never not once ever gone through something like that. You have always had support. Always. You have never had to look anywhere for it. It’s all around you. Everywhere you fucking look there’s a hand held out to you. But you keep looking for these closed, bolted doors. You like breaking down walls. You like shattering locks and boundaries. What you don’t like is finding that you aren’t welcome to take a sample for reference. What you don’t like is not being prepared for the crippling pain of the soul inside…”

“Pain? You’re finally going to talk about pain? Why don’t we put it out there then…” he glowered at you, his eyes red rimmed and piercing.

“I’m not playing ring around the Rosie with you so drop the bullshit and make a fucking decision by your fucking self for once!” You cried as loud as the thunder and lightening that distorted his features.

He cried silently, looking away from you and back at the scratch pad he’d been doodling on for the last hour.

“We had a moment Chanyeol…a moment,” you whispered.

“We had an eternity in that moment. You want to talk about me and how I love barging in unannounced and suddenly and you aren’t wrong but you love to disappear before-,” he began, sniffling disgruntedly.

“I don’t belong to you because you fucked me once,” you seethed, cutting in tersely.

“You don’t belong to anyone. I didn’t forget,” he snapped back.

How could you imagine the crackle pop of fire and brimstone erupting from his mouth?

“You don’t even understand love. You don’t even understand us Chanyeol. You don’t even understand what a soul mate is,” you spat and he gasped at the word.

“Be honest Yeol…do you really see me making school lunches the night before wearing your hoodies with baby’s slobber on my cheeks with my breasts leaking into the fabric of my best blouses with all my un-spilled milk? I’m not doing PTA meetings and I’m not doing soccer practice. I don’t see myself trading in plane tickets for a minivan…”

“I’m not asking you to marry me..”

“I’m not letting you plaster me to your studio wall and fuck me on your latest baby grand either…we have electric creative chemistry. Let’s actually use it and not use it for an excuse to fuck…besides what’s the deal with her..?”

“She needs someone to help her out…she’s had a tough time-”

“Then help her Chanyeol…don’t confuse that with a night in bed…”

“Why are you lecturing me..? Just because he-”

“Didn’t I tell you to not even go there. You know better….I told you everything you need to know but not so you can take it out on me…from what you said about her you also have pretty good creative chemistry…why are you wasting your time fucking someone instead of getting work done. If you’re lonely get another pet Chanyeol…”

“I don’t want a pet damn you…I want love _______. I see all of my friends meeting someone and finding happiness and I love that they’re happy…but I want to have it all like some of them do…like Baekhyun and Kyungsoo-”

“Did you also happen to notice with those big all seeing eyes and all knowing ears of yours that they don’t shit where they eat? Maybe that’s your problem..?”

“And how well did that work out for you? He didn’t support-“

"What did I say? Don’t be an asshole because I’m telling the truth. That’s low. Grow a fucking pair and stop scoping these seedy bars you’re playing in and find a hobby outdoors in the daylight not on a field with a bunch of street admirers and really connect with someone…”

“But I want someone…I want someone who gets me______. I want someone who gets what I’m about. Not some hipster who is here for the aesthetic or some fan girl. I want to share space with another artist. I want to be with someone who fuels my vision. I want to be with someone who will be….ugh” and then he was in tears again, tears of rage.

"It’s so frustrating to be this passionate and this lonely _______” he mumbled into his forearms in an absolutely exhausted tone.

"Is that why you were willing to play Dad to that little boy…?” The look on his face when you said that told you that he wasn’t ready to think of him but you couldn’t wait anymore.

“I wasn’t playing at-”

“Chanyeol you basically just told me that you were desperate-“

“Can you please stop trying to….level me. I know I shouldn’t have….I know. But she’s a nice girl. She really is…”

“She was falling in love with you. Now what are you going to do..?“

“It’s not like I wasn’t falling in love with her too?”

“So it was true interest?”

“I’m not that needy and shallow. I am able to have a real connection-“

“How can you possibly contemplate boning me in the same studio you were hoping to bring her son to and teach him piano….Yeol get real..”

“I don’t know…I…“ he gave an exasperated laugh. You were both at your wits end. You couldn’t help laughing too as you continued on.

"I know it’s hard. Don’t clown right now because I said that…but Yeol those two guys that you pointed out really give their relationship an effort…they don’t just…float around….do you want to try again with her or…?”

He shrugged as if he didn’t know what she wanted but you knew he just didn’t want to face it.

“She doesn’t want to be together. She says the memories are too painful…“

"Then cut her a fucking check for the work she has done and send her on her way. Don’t prolong it. Or let the financial secretary cut it if she’s just here for that and the letter she needed…but talk to her first to be sure. And in a…well honestly with you it doesn’t matter what time of day or whether there are doors are not but just don’t…don’t be a dog about it ok?”

He grinned at you suddenly, the tears in his eyes making them shine.

“You really love me huh?”

“Yes I love you! Why else would I put up with your shit?“ You motioned for him to toss you one of the beers he was having.

And he cracked it open for you and brought it to your side of the conference table instead.

“By the way my sister wants us to get together next month…family event and all and I told her you were here,” he said as he cracked a cold one open for himself and took a healthful swig.

You’d let what you said to him sink in, gripping hold of him in its own time.

“Sure, what’s new?” You turned your attention back to your notes as he began to speak. “My mom is opening a new restaurant and it’s a lot more upscale. I was going to ask Baekhyun’s fiancée but with the baby and her health…I don’t know if she’ll be able to dedicate a lot of time to planning the event. She’s already stretched so far…but I don’t want to make things tense for you either since I know you and your dad haven’t spoken for a while…“

"It’s cool. I miss Mama Park. I’ll go. I think I know a couple people who would at least imitate _________ (Baekhyun’s fiancée)’s style if it’s the style you want…” you said, already pulling out your cell phone and looking through your contacts.

“Yea it’s the style…suga suga how’d you get so fly that you’re a global connect?” He teased suddenly, adding a little more honey to his melancholy tone.

“Please Chanyeol….been running the game for a minute now…” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at that.

“Yea you sure have…”

“What did I say about those sexual references? Don’t make me box your ears right now Park Chanyeol!” You warned him, stabbing the air with your pen.

“If you really want to punish me you can nibble on them!” He laughed aloud.

“Get over here so I can slap you!” You hollered as he jumped up from the table just as MQ came in the door.

“What? You’ve done it before!” Chanyeol was saying just as he dropped his bag. He looked at the stance you both had taken at either side of the table, his mouth set in a wary line.

“I’m going to murder you!“ You shouted at Chanyeol.

"Please don’t! We’re already set back as it is. I don’t have time to delay for the proper burial services and I will not have Mama Park…” he was already starting to drone on but you had to stop him.

“Sometimes MQ you just go a little over the edge with your jokes…like it already tipped the ledge of being unfunny and then you just kicked it over…”

MQ frowned at you as he took a seat and cracked open two beers.

“You are so mean…” Chanyeol said to you as he sat once again at his seat now that MQ returned.

“But I’m productive aren’t I..?” You sang, sticking your tongue out at him.

“So does that mean you could help me with this match making idea you have going..? Since you have the connect..?“ You knew that he wasn’t serious about seeing anyone else yet and was just making conversation but you humored him, as usual.

"How much will you pay me…?”

“Wait what happened to the fact that you love me…“ he scoffed.

"But I still have to deal with you…money is part of deals…” you shrugged.

“Forget it then…“

"Don’t pout…”

“Then help me…”

“Then pay up..” you mimicked him.

“No…“

"Can you two please stop flirting and get back to work! We don’t have all night!” MQ had already downed both beers in record time and was up on his feet and headed out into the recording room.

“That was better MQ! Short and succinct!” Chanyeol called behind him.

“Get your asses in here so we can mix this thing right now!“ He yelled back.

"Ok I like the tone too. Real authoritative …” You snickered.

“I’m about to kick your butts! Get in here!”

#EXO #EXO AU #EXO Pathcodes AU #Universe Gamma #Human realm #Park Chanyeol #Chanyeol AU #Arizona #exo fan fiction #chanyeol fanfic

[aion-rsa]

Behind the Scenes on Inside No. 9’s Most Terrifying Episode

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Warning: contains spoilers for Inside No. 9 ‘The Harrowing’

“It was ‘WTF!? Oh my God! I’m not going to sleep! Why did you do that to me?!’” The moment the credits rolled on Inside No. 9’s series one finale ‘The Harrowing’, director David Kerr was deluged with messages. “People were very responsive,” he laughs. “We’d gone for something bold that was properly horrible and would haunt them. There’s not much out there that scares a horror fan because they’ve seen it all so many times. That’s the challenge. You want to hit people with a visceral, palpable gut punch that they didn’t see coming.”

Job done. The final shot of 2014’s ‘The Harrowing’ is truly deserving of the episode’s title. A schoolgirl, stripped, bound to a chair, gagged and anesthetised, whimpers in terror as the filthy curtains surrounding a four-poster bed begin to part. One necrotised cloven foot touches the floor, followed by another. A contorted, emaciated figure emerges, naked but for a soiled nappy, with curling fingernails and clouded eyes in a grey pock-marked face. It staggers towards the helpless girl, hissing a single world with demonic glee: “Mischief”

Kerr describes the image as “pretty strong meat” and few would disagree, especially considering that the meat in question was paid for by a comedy budget. Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton’s anthology Inside No. 9 has never fitted neatly inside either the stall of comedy or drama. It’s one, the other and both at the same time. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a channel that has a horror department in the same way as comedy,” says Kerr. “That’s what we need to get going!”

Helen McCrory and Reece Shearsmith (BBC)

Kerr directed every episode of Inside No. 9’s first series: six half-hour films, each with a different setting, cast of characters, and tone. ‘The Harrowing’ is Shearsmith and Pemberton’s tribute to horror cinema classics, a specialist subject. Before starting work on the series, Kerr anticipated being schooled by the pair in obscure 1970s horror and rare Giallo movies they wanted to reference, but that wasn’t how it went. “’The Harrowing’ was very much a full-on genre film, and indebted to the Hammer tradition and the Amicus tradition of portmanteau horror, and though they have a tremendously deep knowledge of all that material – more so than me – Reece and Steve were actually very non-prescriptive.”

The script came to Kerr in a perfect state with plenty of detail, he remembers, but aside from some specific Vincent Price nods in costume and make-up, the creators were open to visual ideas – as far as the cash would stretch. “Always with Inside No. 9, budgetary challenges rear their head. You’re trying to make something that feels like a film, but you’re trying to do that on the budget of an episode of Mrs Brown’s Boys”.

It was clear there wouldn’t be the money for a full-body VFX transformation for the demonically possessed Andras who makes such an impression in the final scene. Like most limitations in Inside No. 9 though, it turned out to be a creative blessing, says Kerr. 

Andras is the eldest of the three Moloch siblings, brother to the vampiric-looking Tabitha (Helen McCrory) and Hector (Reece Shearsmith). He lives in an upstairs room of their freezing Gothic mansion, kept tied to the bed and fed like a baby on milk formula and Rusks. Fifty years earlier, we’re told, Andras was possessed by mischief demon Castiel, an infernal spirit now in search of a new home – hence the anesthetised babysitter, Katy (Aimee-Ffion Edwards). 

“You’re always wary of showing the monster, but we knew that we did want people to see Andras. A lot of the conversations ahead of the shoot were about what we could do with our limited pocket of money to make him properly scary, but in a way that you could still feel that he’s human. He’s right on the border between a poor, neglected sibling who’s just been left to stagnate in this room with a dirty nappy and untrimmed toenails. We wanted him to be just at the outer limit of the neglected human, but not to push him into a totally risible demon caricature state.”

Director David Kerr and actor Sean Buckley (David Kerr)

Casting Sean Buckley in the role was key to keeping a grip on the character’s pathos, says Kerr. He describes Buckley, who sadly passed away in 2016, as a hugely gifted physical performer. “He had a great physique and an amazing face, and he really understood the kind of contortions that would be useful for Andras when he was writhing and for his walk. The main thing was the physical tautness that he was going to be feeling when he’s writhing in the bed in chains. Sean just got it.”

As reference material for Andras’ look, Kerr and the team went to a range of sources: The Pale Man from Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth, Dickensian ghosts and the Pee Pee Demon from Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt’s Angel. The character’s make-up was the work of Lisa Cavalli-Green, who brought in skilled prosthetics designer Kristyan Mallett to create Andras’ horrific set of teeth. “We went for details,” says Kerr. “Planning a shot, it was very much about half seeing him through that veil. As ever with horror and comedy, you’re just holding back the reveal. Again – testament to Reece and Steve – they didn’t give Andras tons of dialogue. Less was definitely more.” 

The opposite applied to the episode’s Gothic location; in that case, more was definitely more. Kerr remembers his first look at the 19th century Highgate mansion that served as the Moloch house exterior (16 Broadlands Road, N6, if you’re planning a visit). “It was a real ‘we’ve got to use this’ moment. Reece would like to live there, incidentally, that’s going to be his home one day.”

For the interiors, it all came down to the staircase. Inspired by the grand staircases in films like The Others, The Orphanage and The Woman in Black, Kerr’s team went looking for similar. Another reference was more comic-horror. “For Reece and Steve, the characters of Tabitha and Hector felt a little bit like Addams Family characters. I found one of the original Charles Addams cartoons with a staircase in it and then found Langleybury and the staircase was almost identical. That was a real Eureka moment.” 

Charles Addams cartoon and Langleybury (David Kerr)

The interiors were filmed in Langleybury, near Watford, which has also been used in the filming of Harlots, a 2011 Great Expectations and feature film The Little Stranger. The atmospheric, dilapidated interior with a galleried area and a series of ante-rooms was perfect for Shearsmith and Pemberton’s script. “You just felt – what could be behind those closed doors?”

Taking viewers up to those closed doors were Steadicam shots by specialist operator Alf Tramontin, whose previous work includes the Harry Potter films and Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity. Kerr aimed to achieve “a prowling point of view” and designed shots very specifically to draw the eye through the house and give the impression there were whole rooms and wings that were rarely used. John Carpenter’s Halloween was an inspiration for the choreography of those shots. “It’s all about the girls, Katy and Shell (Poppy Rush) creeping up the stairs and just not being able to quite see past the corner, putting the audience in their point of view in terms of what might be behind a door, or a covered piece of furniture beneath a dust sheet.” The dusts sheets covering the furniture fed into the unsettling idea that you’re not quite sure what lurks beneath, says Kerr, before adding with a laugh, “that was also so that we could just put any old crap underneath without having to rent a lot of expensive props!” 

Custom props were made for the hellish pictures on display in the Moloch hall. Production designer Brian Sykes had reproductions made of 15th and 16th century paintings depicting the Harrowing of Hell. “That was tricky, because really you wanted a whole gallery of these things, just to feel they were everywhere, but the flip side of that is if Tabitha and Hector had this stunning art collection, maybe they wouldn’t live in such a ratty house. The fact they only have a few of those paintings makes you think ‘are they for real? Is this all a bit of a con?’ And that’s what you want the audience to be asking themselves.”

A crucial part of directing the audience’s feelings in the episode is the work of Inside No. 9 composer Christian Henson. “He’s so inventive and brilliant,” says Kerr. “None of those films sound alike from a score point of view.” For ‘The Harrowing,’ Henson drew inspiration from the Giallo vintage synthesizer used in the Goblin score for Dario Argento’s Suspiria, and once again, from Carpenter’s famous Halloween theme.

Poppy Rush and Aimee Ffion-Edwards (BBC)

That’s a lot of horror talk for 30 minutes of television commissioned under a comedy banner. The comedy though, is very much there in ‘The Harrowing’, which begins as a fond pastiche of the kind of lurid characters found in Hammer Horror films such as Roger Corman’s Vincent Price-starring House of Usher. Kerr knew that guest star Helen McCrory had the colours to make Tabitha something special. “Helen just took to it and had that voice and poise. The character’s this sort of grande dame, larger than life.” McCrory and Shearsmith’s performances are expertly pitched to riff on the theatricality of those stars of vintage horror. 

“So much of the film plays in a fairly camp register. You meet Hector and he’s Vincent Price-ish, a slightly campy eccentric. Tabitha is almost like a sort of Norma Desmond from Sunset Boulevard, shuttered in the chateau. They’re oddballs, and they’re funny and bicker like an old couple. By the time Hector pulls out the guitar and is singing Lord of the Dance, you’re thinking ‘this is bordering on ludicrous!’, and then it’s about how far can we push that comedy and turn the corner to something properly dark. The Lord of the Dance silliness takes your guard down, I hope, so that by the time Aimee-Ffion Edwards’ character is sitting there and Castiel in Andras’ body is advancing towards her, it’s properly horrifying, and you’re thinking ‘I didn’t see this coming’.

“They are twins, comedy and horror. They’re both the cinema of sensation, you’re trying to create a visceral reaction from people. Fear and laughter are proper physical reactions in people, rather than intellectual ponderings. You want to incite those reactions and you do that by getting ahead of the audience and not letting them get ahead of you. And that’s always been the genius of a script by Reece and Steve. That’s what they do.”

David Kerr’s festive film Roald & Beatrix: The Tail of the Curious Mouse will air this Christmas on Sky One and NOWTV.

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Inside No. 9 is available to stream now on BBC iPlayer.

The post Behind the Scenes on Inside No. 9’s Most Terrifying Episode appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[maxwellyjordan]

A “view” from the courtroom: Dangling past participles

The first case for argument today involves the highly provocative trademark, “FUCT,” for a line of “streetwear” founded by Erik Brunetti in California in 1990.

Brunetti’s lawyer, John Sommer, promised in his merits brief that references to “vulgar terms” will be not be necessary during oral arguments, or if necessary, “the discussion will be purely clinical, such as when medical terms are discussed.”

Erik Brunetti seated in courtroom for argument (Art Lien)

At the end of the hour, he will turn out to be right, though the lawyers and the justices will perform some mental gymnastics to avoid the use of Brunetti’s trademark and other profane or vulgar terms.

Sommer has pre-empted the warning that has typically come from the court about not using profane or vulgar language during arguments in past cases involving Paul Cohen’s “F**k the Draft” message on the jacket he wore in a courthouse, George Carlin’s “Filthy Words” routine (or the “seven words you can’t say on the public airwaves”), and the “isolated utterances” of obscene words on television.

An amicus brief on Brunetti’s side from the Cato Institute, besides offering its own thoughtful take on the importance of vulgar language in society, directs readers to a fascinating article in a 2012 issue of the William & Mary Bill of Rights Journal by Thomas Krattenmaker, who was a law clerk to Justice John Marshall Harlan. In Cohen v. California, Harlan (and mostly Krattenmaker, by his account) wrote the opinion for the court that said the anti-draft message on the jacket was protected from criminal prosecution by the First Amendment.

Krattenmaker relates the well-known fact that before oral argument in Cohen in the fall of 1970, then-Chief Justice Warren Burger sought to head off the use of the offending word by telling Cohen’s lawyer that the justices were familiar with the facts of the case. But the lawyer, Melville Nimmer, used the word in response to the first question he received. Krattenmaker further relates that Nimmer worried that court security personnel might jump up and say, “He said F*** in the Supreme Court, grab him!”

No one grabbed Nimmer that day, of course.

Today, Erik Brunetti is in the courtroom. If he is wearing one of his infamous T-shirts, it isn’t evident. He’s in the second row of the middle section of the public gallery, right behind the front row that almost always is kept empty. He will listen intently to the argument.

There’s another person who has caught our eye this morning. George Conway, the sometimes news-making husband of Kellyanne Conway, a counselor to President Donald Trump, is in the last row of the bar section. Conway, a partner with Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz, appears to have more of a connection to the second case for argument today: Emulex Corporation v. Varjabedian, a securities case. Conway is the counsel of record for an amicus brief filed by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce and the Business Roundtable in support of Emulex.

There are also a handful of children in the public gallery, and high school students churning through the three-minute section in the back of the courtroom. Their ears will mostly not need shielding today.

As the argument in Brunetti gets going, there is a derby of sorts among the justices and the lawyers for creative ways to avoid mentioning the trademark at issue in the case. (I’m generally using “Brunetti’s mark” as my polite substitute.)

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg refers to “what’s involved in this case,” and mentions the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office’s standard of refusing trademark recognition to a mark under the scandalous provision when a “substantial composite of the general public” would find it shocking or offensive.

Would a composite of 20-year-olds find Brunetti’s mark shocking, she asks Deputy Solicitor General Malcolm Stewart.

He agrees some segments of the population would be less shocked than others. But the PTO, he says, determined that “this mark would be perceived by a substantial segment of the public as the equivalent of the profane past participle form of a well-known word of profanity and perhaps the paradigmatic word of profanity in our language.”

A little later, Stewart will refer to George Carlin’s “Filthy Words” monologue as “a paradigmatic example of profane copyrightable expression.”

“Now our society has reached a good accommodation where people who find the Carlin monologue funny or thought-provoking can buy the CDs, they can buy the DVDs,” he says, dating his technology frame of reference a bit. “When Carlin was alive, they could watch live performances. All that can be done without forcing the profanity upon anybody who finds it offensive.”

One thing the justices seem to agree on this morning is that the Trademark Office has been thoroughly inconsistent in its treatment of trademark applications involving the “seven dirty words” and their variations.

Justice Neil Gorsuch refers to the appendix at the end of Brunetti’s merits brief, which provides a four-page guide to those inconsistencies with examples that would make any sailor blush.

“There are shocking numbers of ones granted and ones refused that do look remarkably similar,” Gorsuch says.

(The appendix is part of the printed “red brief,” but is a separate document in the court’s docket for the case. Parental Guidance suggested. And by that, we mean that some parents may need to consult their 20-something children for explanations.)

We weren’t surprised to learn that the motto on the wallet of Samuel L. Jackson’s character (Jules) in “Pulp Fiction” was rejected for federal trademark protection. (As Jules puts it in the classic 1994 Quentin Tarantino film, “It’s the one that says ‘Bad Mother F*****.’”)

When Stewart starts to discuss an example by spelling out a phonetic equivalent for the profane past participle form of the word at issue, Gorsuch cuts him off.

“I don’t want to go through the examples. I really don’t want to do that,” he says to laughter from the courtroom.

Justice Stephen Breyer raises a serious concern about “racial slurs” and he gets a bit clinical.

“I’ve looked into [it] a little, and there are certain ones that have exactly the same physiological effect on a person, if any, as the word we’re using here, and there is a physiological effect.”

It becomes clear he is talking about the N-word, which he and Stewart want to avoid mentioning even more than Brunetti’s trademark.

Stewart will say later that even after the court’s decision in Matal v. Tam found that the Lanham Act’s disparagement provision violated the First Amendment, the PTO is holding back on approving any trademarks related to that word as potentially violative of the scandalous provision.

Sommer, whose day job is as general counsel of the Stussy line of clothing, takes to the lectern, and Breyer soon continues his clinical discussion of the effects of certain words on the brain, including forms of Brunetti’s mark and certain racial slurs.

“They have a different physiological effect on the brain,” Breyer says of these words. “They’re stored in a different place. They make a difference in the conductivity of your skin, which shows emotion, and above all, they are remembered.”

Why can’t the government say it doesn’t want to be associated with such words, by refusing them trademark recognition, Breyer asks.

Sommer argues repeatedly that the government is making viewpoint-based distinctions. When he says that his client’s mark “isn’t exactly one of the seven dirty words,” Alito objects.

“Oh, come on,” he says. “Be serious. We know … what he’s trying to say.” Would any “clever way” of avoiding a list of seven banned words be okay?

Sommer points out that there are other variations of Brunetti’s mark that have won trademark recognition, such as “FCUK,” by the French Connection UK clothing chain.

Alito agrees that the PTO has inconsistently applied the standards, but asks whether going forward there can be a list of prohibited words and “you just can’t use those. And your position is that would be unconstitutional?”

“I think so,” Sommer says. “If Congress were to pass that, we’d be here again in a few years to determine whether that’s true.”

Sommer mentions that his client’s goods are not exactly sold at Walmart. (Actually, Brunetti has said in recent interviews that they’re now sold exclusively online, with new products each month that usually sell out within days. Still, it’s our general impression that Brunetti’s line is somewhat past its prime.)

Chief Justice John Roberts tells Sommer that even if Brunetti’s shirts aren’t sold at Walmart, they’re “going to be worn on people walking down through the mall. And, you know, for parents who are trying to teach their children not to use those kinds of words, they’re going to look at that and say, well, look at that, and then, you know, they’re going to see the little trademark thing and say, well, it’s a registered trademark.”

The courtroom erupts in laughter.

“Well, they won’t say that,” the chief justice adds, “but you understand my point is that the government’s registration of it will facilitate its use in commerce, not necessarily speech, but as a commercial product, and that has consequences beyond … where the product is sold.”

Sommer says a little later that “the audience that Mr. Brunetti is appealing to is young men who want to be rebels. And this is how they do it.”

“Well, that may be the audience he’s targeting,” Roberts says. “But that’s not the only audience he reaches.”

The post A “view” from the courtroom: Dangling past participles appeared first on SCOTUSblog.

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[trendingnewsb]

The Fight for LGBT Equality in 2018 Will Be Fierce

Jay Michaelson: So, here we are at the end of a strange year for LGBTQ Americans. On the one hand, mainstream acceptance of gay people continues to spread; gays are now officially boring. On the other hand, trans people are being singled out for government persecution on the one hand and continued street violence on the other.

Meanwhile, as all three of us have written, the Trump-Pence administration is inflicting the "death of a thousand blows" against LGBTQ civil rights, severely limiting employment rights, marital rights, access to healthcare, access to safe facilities in schools, and so onwhile literally erasing LGBTQ people from government forms, proclamations, and observances.

For that reason, it's even harder than usual to look toward 2018 with any sense of certainty. What are we most hoping for in the year to come? And what do we fear?

Samantha Allen: I have written the word bathroom hundreds of times over the past two years of covering the various state-level attempts to restrict transgender peoples restroom use. I wish I never had to type it again; I didnt sign up to be a reporter to write about the human excretory system every week.

But in 2018, I am hoping to talk about bathrooms a lot less frequentlyand I have reason to believe that will be the case.

One of the most important victories for transgender people this year came in the form of something we avoided: a bathroom bill in Texas that would have effectively made birth certificates into tickets of entry for restrooms in public schools and government buildings. But that was scuttled at the last second by the business community, local law enforcement, and a sympathetic speaker of the House who said he [didnt] want the suicide of a single Texan on [his] hands.

Im confident that well see somebut fewerred-state legislatures really push for bathroom bills. Theyre political losers and money drainersand everyone in elected office knows that by now

I was in the state this summer when this thing almost got passed and I witnessed firsthand the gloriously outsized Texas rage against a bill that could have cost them billions (Tim wrote about the Texas bathroom battle at the time for the Daily Beast).

Between that and North Carolina being forced to repeal the most controversial aspects of HB 2 under pressure from the NCAA, Im confident that well see somebut fewerred-state legislatures really push for bathroom bills. Theyre political losers and money drainersand everyone in elected office knows that by now.

Tim Teeman: Id like to share your optimism, but Roy Moore supplies a harsh correctivefor me anyway. In the celebrations that followed his defeat at the hands of Doug Jones in the Alabama Senate race, some difficult questions were left hanging.

Moore was a candidate whose rampant homophobiahis actual desire to see discrimination enacted against millions of LGBT Americans, his desire to see prejudice and discrimination enshrined in lawwent mostly unchallenged and unquestioned. Only on the last day of the race did Jake Tapper of CNN ask his spokesman whether Moore believed homosexuality should be illegal (the answer: Probably).

This was a shameful and telling omission by the media. The depressing footnote to Moores loss is that extreme homophobia itself is not a disqualification for a political candidate in 2017. Active homophobia was seen as a valid mandate to hold by the modern Republican Party.

Moore was only too happy to hold it close even in defeat, as he showed by posting (on Facebook) Carson Jones, Doug Jones gay sons, post-election interview with The Advocate. It was a sly attempt to stir up anti-gay poison. Politicians like Moore are thankfully fewer and fewer in number, but homophobia and transphobia are still a major currency in this White Houseand that Trump and other of Moores high-profile Republican supporters dont see it as a disqualifying characteristic tells us something very sad and alarming indeed.

Since ordinary gays are now not so novel, Hollywood's search for novelty is causing them to explore stories of people of color, rural folks, genderqueer folks, and other people who aren't Will or Grace

Jay Michaelson: I am putting most of my hopes outside the machinery of the state. Hollywood told some beautiful queer stories in 2017; I hope this expands and continues in 2018. A decade ago, when I was a professional activist, we had it drilled into us that the number one factor in someone "evolving" on any particular LGBTQ issue was knowing someone who was L, G, B, T, or Q. And if they didn't have firsthand knowledge, media figures counted too.

So, while the Republican party caters to its Christian Right base, I hope that continued media visibility makes them pay for doing so. There's a nice irony too: since ordinary gays are now not so novel, Hollywood's search for novelty is causing them to explore stories of people of color, rural folks, genderqueer folks, and other people who aren't Will or Grace. That might not be for the best motive, but the consequences could be profound.

Tim Teeman: Then we have the 'wedding cake' case at SCOTUS, which you have written about Jay. That seems currently going in favor of the baker refusing to bake a wedding cake for a gay couple. This isn't just about a wedding cake, of course, but providing a signal that discrimination based on "beliefs" is OK, which can be used against LGBT people in so many contexts.

Samantha Allen: Im afraid the Trump administrations attacks on the LGBT community will continue to be so persistent and so piecemeal that they will continue to get shuffled to the side. This past month, we were stunned when the Washington Post reported that the CDC had been discouraged from using the term transgender in preparing their annual budget, but if people had been paying closer attention to Trumps appointments in the Department of Health and Human Services and other federal agencies, this wouldnt have been a surprise.

We cant afford to pretend anymore like these are stunningly cruel attacks that come out of nowhere: leaders of anti-LGBT groups regularly walk the White House halls, they wield tremendous influence right now, and the administration is quietly giving them what they want.

Im worried that, with so many other scandals dominating the headlines, the systematic erosion of LGBT rights will continue to fly under the radar

Trumps tweets on transgender military service created a media shockwave, but that moment aside, the administrations attacks on LGBT people in 2017 have been considerably less flashy: amicus briefs filed to the Supreme Court, tinkering with executive orders, adjusting the Department of Justices approach to transgender students. All of these perniciously subtle attacks have taken place against a cultural backdrop of continuing bigotry and violence: In the last year, for example, at least 28 trans people have been killed, most of them transgender women of color.

Tim Teeman: I think one of the things the U.S. would do well to figure out (he said vainly) is the separation of Church and State. The Religious Right has such a grip on the levers of power here, in certain states and in certain administrations like President Trumps which is greatly relying on the bedrock of its support. LGBT people, activists and groups are facing a traumatic 2018, as the far right of the Republican support seeks to shore up support around Trump, and trans people especially are especially vulnerable in such an atmosphere.

Jay makes a good point: at a time when the Right seeks a ratcheting up of the LGBT culture war, LGBT people and their straight allies working in the culture at large should work to put a wide diversity of LGBT lives and characters into that culture, whether it be TV, film, literature, art, or whatever. Actual LGBT presence will be vital in 2018.

If this global backlash isn't stopped, queer people will be murdered, arrested, targeted, stigmatized, and forced to leave their countries (and then denied refugee status) in numbers we have never seen before

Samantha Allen: The death of a thousand blows of LGBT rights under Trump is only going to continue in 2018, and Im worried that, with so many other scandals dominating the headlines, the systematic erosion of LGBT rightsa phenomenon thats directly affecting at least 4 percent of the U.S. population and 7 percent of millennialswill continue to fly under the radar.

Thatd be like the Trump administration deciding one day that everyone in the state of Pennsylvania didnt deserve human rightsand it somehow not being front-page news every single day until it got fixed.

Jay Michaelson: My greatest fear for 2018 is on a somewhat macro-scale. The rise of nationalism, nativism, and right-wing populism around the world is terrifying. On one level, it's an understandable backlash against globalization, multiculturalism, and technology: people unable or unwilling to change are clinging to old identities and myths. But it's also profoundly dangerous, and queers are just one population endangered by it. It's not to be taken lightly.

Already we've seen the United States retreat from the whole concept of human rights, giving carte blanche to murderous anti-LGBTQ elements in Russia, Egypt, Chechnya, Indonesia, and elsewhere.

In 2018, the US will practically zero out its aid to vulnerable LGBT populations around the world. At the UN as elsewhere, America is now allied with Putin's Russia, in this case withdrawing protection from LGBT people and instead defending the oppression of us.

But this is just the beginning. If this global backlash isn't stopped, queer people will be murdered, arrested, targeted, stigmatized, and forced to leave their countries (and then denied refugee status) in numbers we have never seen before.

Figure out some way to help those who dont have as much, or who are especially politically and culturally vulnerable, and who could do with support. Give money, volunteer, whateverdo what you can

Tim Teeman: On that basis, LGBT people and their allies with any time, money, commitment and energy might think about involving themselves with activism and campaigning for organizations like The Trevor Project, HRC, Anti-Violence Project, National Center For Transgender Equality, GLSEN, PFLAG, OutRight Action International, and groups in their local area. If they don't want to do something overtly political, then maybe figure out a way to help those who dont have as much, or who are especially vulnerable, and who could do with supportwhether that be financial and pastoral.

If you need inspiration, look to Nathan Mathis who wasn't going to let Roy Moore winor lose at it turned outin Alabama without shaming him over his homophobia; and without remembering, in the most moving way possible, his dead lesbian daughter, Patti Sue.

Listen to, and be inspired by, the stirring stories of those from times when things were not just bleak but political progress and cultural evolution seemed alien and utterly distant. Eric Marcus has distilled, and continues to distill, amazing interviews with the likes of Sylvia Rivera and Frank Kameny, conducted for his landmark book Making Gay History: The Half-Century Fight For Lesbian and Gay Equal Rights, into a must-listen podcast.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-fight-for-lgbt-equality-in-2018-will-be-fierce

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2Eudf8o via Viral News HQ

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The Fight for LGBT Equality in 2018 Will Be Fierce

Jay Michaelson : So, here we are at the end of a strange time for LGBTQ Americans. On the one hand, mainstream acceptance of lesbian people continues to spread; homosexuals are now officially boring. On the other hand, trans people are being singled out for government mistreatment on the one hand and continued street violence on the other.

Meanwhile, as all three of us have written, the Trump-Pence administration is imposing the “death of a thousand blows” against LGBTQ civil right, severely restriction employment rights, marital rights, access to healthcare, access to safe facilities in schools, and so on-while literally deleting LGBTQ people from government forms, proclamations, and observances.

For that reason, it &# x27; s even harder than usual to look toward 2018 with any sense of certainty. What are we most hoping for in the year to come? And what do we fear?

Samantha Allen : I have written the word “bathroom” hundreds of periods over the past two years of covering the various state-level attempts to restrict transgender people’s restroom use. I wish I never had to type it again; I didn’t sign up to be a reporter to write about the human excretory system each week.

But in 2018, I am hoping to talk about bathrooms a lot less frequently–and I have reason to believe that will be the case.

One of the most important success for transgender people this year came in the form of something we avoided: a” bathroom bill” in Texas that would have effectively built birth certificates into tickets of entry for restrooms in public schools and government buildings. But that was scampered at the last second by the business community, local law enforcement, and a sympathetic talker of the House who said he “[ didn’t] crave the suicide of a single Texan on[ his] hands .”

” I’m confident that we’ll visualize some–but fewer–red-state legislatures really push for “bathroom” bills. They’re political losers and fund drainers–and everyone in elected office knows that by now “ div > div>

I was in the government the summer months when this thing almost get passed and I witnessed firsthand the gloriously outsized Texas rage against a bill that could have cost them billions( Tim wrote about the Texas bathroom battle at the time for the Daily Beast ).

Between that and North Carolina being was necessary to repeal the more controversial aspects of HB 2 under pressure from the NCAA, I’m confident that we’ll understand some–but fewer–red-state parliaments truly push for “bathroom” bills. They’re political losers and money drainers–and everyone in elected agency known to be by now.

Tim Teeman : I’d like to share your optimism, but Roy Moore supplies a harsh corrective–for me anyway. In the celebrations that followed his defeat at the hands of Doug Jones in the Alabama Senate race, some difficult questions were left dangling.

Moore was a candidate whose rampant homophobia-his actual desire to see discrimination enacted against millions of LGBT Americans, his desire to see prejudice and discrimination are set forth in law-went largely unchallenged and unquestioned. Simply on the last day of the race did Jake Tapper of CNN ask his spokesman whether Moore believed homosexuality should be illegal( the answer: “Probably” ).

This was a shameful and telling omission by the media. The depressing footnote to Moore’s loss is that extreme homophobia itself is not a disqualification for a political nominee in 2017. Active homophobia was seen as a valid mandate to comprised by the modern Republican Party.

Moore was only too happy to hold it close even in overcome, as he proven by posting( on Facebook ) Carson Jones, Doug Jones’ lesbian son’s, post-election interview with The Advocate . It was a sly attempt to stir up anti-gay poison. Legislators like Moore are thankfully fewer and fewer in number, but homophobia and transphobia are still a major currency in this White House–and that Trump and other of Moore’s high-profile Republican supporters don’t see it as a disqualifying characteristic tells us something very sad and alarming indeed.

” Since ordinary gays are now not so novel, Hollywood &# x27; s search for novelty is causing them to explore tales of people of color, rural folks, genderqueer folks, and other people who aren &# x27; t Will or Grace “ div > div > div>

Jay Michaelson : I am putting most of my hopes outside the machinery of the state. Hollywood told some beautiful faggot tales in 2017; I hope this expands and continues in 2018. A decade ago, when I was a professional activist, we had it drilled into us that the number one taken into account in someone “evolving” on any particular LGBTQ issue was knowing someone who was L, G, B, T, or Q. And if they didn &# x27; t have firsthand knowledge, media figures counted too.

So, while the Republican party caters to its Christian Right base, I hope that continued media visibility stimulates them pay for doing so. There &# x27; s a nice irony too: since ordinary lesbians are now not so novel, Hollywood &# x27; s search for novelty is causing them to explore tales of people of color, rural folks, genderqueer folks, and other people who aren &# x27; t Will or Grace. That might not be for the best motive, but the consequences could be profound.

Tim Teeman : Then we have the &# x27; wedding cake &# x27; case at SCOTUS, which you have written about Jay. That seems currently going in favor of the baker refusing to bake a wedding cake for a gay couple. This isn &# x27; t just about a wedding cake, of course, but furnishing a signal that discrimination based on “beliefs” is OK, which can be used against LGBT people in so many contexts.

Samantha Allen : I’m afraid the Trump administration’s attempts on the LGBT community will continue to be so persistent and so piecemeal that they will continue to get shuffled to the side. This past month, we were stunned when the Washington Post reported that the CDC had been deterred from employing the term “transgender” in preparing their annual budget, but if people had been paying closer attention to Trump’s appointments in the Department of Health and Human Service and other federal agencies, this wouldn’t have been a surprise.

We can’t afford to pretend anymore like these are stunningly cruel onslaughts that come out of nowhere: leaders of anti-LGBT groups regularly walk the White House dormitories, they wield tremendous influence right now, and the concerned authorities is softly giving them what they want.

” I’m worried that, with so many other scandals dominating the headlines, the systematic eroding of LGBT rights will continue to fly under the radar “ div > div>

Trump’s tweets on transgender military service made a media shockwave, but that moment aside, the administration’s assaults on LGBT people in 2017 have been considerably less flashy: amicus summaries filed to the Supreme Court, tinkering with executive orders, adapting the Department of Justice’s approach to transgender students. All of these perniciously subtle assaults have taken place against a cultural backdrop of continuing bigotry and violence: In the last year, for example, at least 28 trans people have been killed, most of them transgender women of color.

Tim Teeman : I reckon one of the things the U.S. would do well to figure out( he said vainly) is the separation of Church and State. The Religious Right has such a clutch on the levers of power here, in certain states and in certain administrations like President Trump’s which is greatly relying on the bedrock of its support. LGBT people, activists and groups are facing a traumatic 2018, as the extreme right of the Republican support seeks to shore up support around Trump, and trans people specially are particularly susceptible in such an atmosphere.

Jay makes a good point: at a time when the Right seeks a ratcheting up of the LGBT culture war, LGBT people and their straight friends working in the culture at large should work to threw a wide diversity of LGBT lives and characters into that culture, whether it be Tv, movie, literature, art, or whatever. Actual LGBT existence will be vital in 2018.

” If this world backlash isn &# x27; t stopped, gay people will be murdered, arrested, targeted, stigmatized, and forced to leave their countries( and then denied refugee status) in numbers we have never seen before “ div > div>

Samantha Allen: The” death of a thousand blows” of LGBT rights under Trump is simply going to continue in 2018, and I’m worried that, with so many other scandals dominating the headlines, the systematic corrosion of LGBT rights–a phenomenon that’s immediately affecting at the least 4 percent of the U.S. population and 7 percent of millennials–will continue to fly under the radar.

That’d be like the Trump administration deciding one day that everyone in the country of Pennsylvania didn’t deserve human rights–and it somehow not being front-page news every single period until it get fixed.

Jay Michaelson : My greatest anxiety for 2018 is on a somewhat macro-scale. The rise of nationalism, nativism, and right-wing populism around the world is terrifying. On one level, it &# x27; s an understandable backlash against globalization, multiculturalism, and technology: people unable or unwilling to change are clinging to old identities and myths. But it &# x27; s also profoundly dangerous, and queers are just one population endangered by it. It &# x27; s not to be taken lightly.

Already we &# x27; ve appreciated the United States retreat from the whole concept of human rights, devoting carte blanche to murderous anti-LGBTQ factors in Russia, Egypt, Chechnya, Indonesia, and elsewhere.

In 2018, the US will practically zero out its aid to vulnerable LGBT populations around the world. At the UN as elsewhere, America is now allied with Putin &# x27; s Russia, in this case withdrawing protection from LGBT people and instead protecting the oppression of us.

But this is just the beginning. If this world backlash isn &# x27; t stopped, homosexual people will be slaughtered, apprehended, targeted, stigmatized, and forced to leave their countries( and then denied refugee status) in numbers we have never seen before.

” Figure out some behavior to aid those who don’t have as much, or who are especially politically and culturally vulnerable, and which is able do with subsistence. Make money, volunteer, whatever–do what you can “ div > div>

Tim Teeman : On that basis, LGBT people and their allies with any time, fund, commitment and energy might think about involving themselves with activism and campaigning for organizations like The Trevor Project, HRC, Anti-Violence Project, National Center For Transgender Equality, GLSEN, PFLAG, OutRight Action International, and groups in their local region. If they don &# x27; t wishes to do something overtly political, then maybe figure out a style to assist the individuals who don’t have as much, or who are especially vulnerable, and who could do with support-whether that be fiscal and pastoral.

If you need inspiration, look to Nathan Mathis who wasn &# x27; t is letting Roy Moore win-or lose at it turned out-in Alabama without dishonor him over his homophobia; and without remembering, in the most moving lane possible, his dead lesbian daughter, Patti Sue.

Listen to, and be inspired by, the conjuring tales of those from periods when things were not just bleak but political progress and cultural evolution seemed alien and utterly remote. Eric Marcus has distilled, and continues to distill, astonishing interviews with the likes of Sylvia Rivera and Frank Kameny, conducted for his landmark book Making Gay History: The Half-Century Fight For Lesbian and Gay Equal Rights, into a must-listen podcast.

Read more: https :// www.thedailybeast.com/ the-fight-for-lgbt-equality-in-2 018 -will-be-fierce

from https://bestmovies.fun/2017/12/30/the-fight-for-lgbt-equality-in-2018-will-be-fierce/