#Trademark Opposition Process

[reyesandschroeder]

TTAB Opposition: Key Reasons Why Trademark Applications Get Challenged

When businesses and individuals file for trademark registration, their applications are carefully scrutinized not just by the United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO), but potentially by any third party who believes the registration may adversely affect them. This can lead to what is known as a trademark opposition, a formal dispute against the registration of the trademark. Such oppositions are handled by the Trademark Trial and Appeal Board (TTAB), an administrative tribunal of the USPTO.

1. Likelihood of Confusion

The most common ground for a trademark opposition is the likelihood of confusion with an already existing trademark. If an applied-for mark is too similar to another mark that is already registered or pending and covers related products or services, the TTAB may find a likelihood of confusion. Trademark Opposition Lawyers meticulously analyze prior marks and argue whether the similarities between the marks are likely to cause confusion among consumers.

2. Descriptiveness or Genericness

A trademark that is deemed merely descriptive or generic can also be a target for opposition. A descriptive mark describes a quality, characteristic, function, or feature of the goods or services and does not qualify for registration unless it has acquired distinctiveness through extensive use in commerce. Generic terms, which are the common names for products or services, cannot be trademarked at all. Attorneys specializing in trademark oppositions are skilled in presenting evidence about how a mark is perceived by the public.

3. Prior Rights (Common Law Rights)

Even if a trademark is not registered, prior common law rights can be grounds for opposition. Businesses that have been using a mark in commerce, even locally, may oppose a new application if they believe it infringes on their established rights. Trademark Opposition Attorneys often rely on demonstrating the extent and geographical reach of their client’s prior use to support their opposition.

4. Bad Faith

Bad faith applications are those where the applicant is suspected of knowingly applying for a trademark with the intent to cause confusion or to capitalize on the reputation of existing trademark holders. Establishing bad faith requires deep legal insights and strategic presentation of evidence, tasks that are typically handled by experienced Trademark Opposition Lawyers.

5. Nonuse

A trademark must be actively used in commerce to maintain its registration. If an opposition is filed on the grounds that a trademark has not been genuinely used, the applicant must provide proof of use, or the registration can be canceled. This is a critical area where Trademark Opposition Attorneys can either defend the existing use or challenge the purported use by the applicant.

6. Functionality

A mark that is deemed functional — meaning that the feature it represents is essential to the use or purpose of the product, or affects the cost or quality of the product — cannot be trademarked. Lawyers experienced in trademark oppositions can argue whether a mark's functionality truly disqualifies it from trademark protection.

The Role of Trademark Opposition Lawyers

Trademark Opposition Lawyers play a critical role in navigating the complex proceedings of the TTAB. Their expertise not only involves the submission of legal briefs and evidences but also strategic counseling to clients about the feasibility and potential outcomes of filing an opposition or defending against one.

Handling Oppositions and Cancellations

Trademark Oppositions / Cancellations are serious legal challenges that can determine the fate of a trademark. Whether advocating for the opposition or defending the application, a skilled Trademark Opposition Attorney can influence the outcome through compelling arguments, thorough research, and strategic use of legal precedents.

Conclusion: Reyes & Schroeder Associates

Navigating the complexities of trademark oppositions and cancellations requires legal expertise that only seasoned Trademark Opposition Attorneys can offer. Reyes & Schroeder Associates prides itself on providing top-tier legal counsel in the realm of trademark law. With a robust understanding of TTAB procedures and a commitment to safeguarding intellectual property rights, Reyes & Schroeder Associates ensures that your trademark endeavors are both protected and prosperous. Our team's strategic approach to handling trademark disputes embodies a blend of thorough legal knowledge and tactical prowess, aimed at delivering optimal outcomes for our clients. Trust Reyes & Schroeder Associates to guide you through the intricacies of trademark oppositions and secure your brand's future.

#Trademark Opposition Process #Trademark Law #Intellectual Property Rights #TTAB Procedures #Trademark Legal Defense

[drishtilaw]

Trademark Opposition Proceedings video by Sahil Malhotra - Drishti Law​

The basics of the trademark opposition proceedings are pretty simple. Trademark owners have many ways of protecting their brand ranging from cease and desist letters to federal litigation. it is important to have a strong understanding of the process before moving forward. If you would like more information or want to discuss your specific situation, please don’t hesitate to contact us [phone]

Check out here trademark opposition proceedings video by Sahil Malhotra

#drishtilaw #intellectual property #business law #how to oppose a trademark #trademark opposition #trademark opposition process #trademark opposition procedure #trademark opposition lawyer #trademark opposition proceedings

[patntech]

Trademark Registration In Kolkata

Experience a seamless journey to trademark registration in Kolkata with our performance marketing expertise. Safeguard your brand with confidence through our expert services.

#file trademark online Kolkata #trademark registration process for small business Kolkata #best trademark lawyer Kolkata #trademark search services Kolkata #trademark opposition Kolkata #Kolkata trademark registration company #trademark filing services Kolkata #trademark attorney Kolkata #intellectual property lawyer Kolkata

[michellesanches]

How to Register a Trademark: A Step-by-Step Guide

Registering a trademark for your brand is crucial to protect your intellectual property and establish exclusive rights to use your mark in commerce. A trademark serves as a valuable asset, safeguarding your brand identity and preventing others from using similar marks that may cause confusion among consumers. This should not be confused with registering a business name. In some instances, your…

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#application process #Brand identity #brand name protection #business name #Intellectual property #legal assistance #Madrid System #market identity #office action #opposition period #TEAS #trademark certificate #trademark class #trademark enforcement #Trademark registration #trademark rights #trademark search #USPTO

[st-danger]

i wish you would write a fic where rain and phantom dock :3

It not that Aeon isn't curious, and that's why he rarely asks for further clarification when approached about anything at all. Quite the opposite is true; he is so interested in the Above Ground and everything in it, he sees no reason to to ever ask why or why not or where or how or what.

(He also isn't much for asking who, either, but both Dew and Imperator don't see this as anything that requires addressing.)

The truth of it is he wants to know everything about everything. Questions simply slow the learning process down. Much easier to go along with whatever is brought before him and assume his fellow ghouls aren't about to lead him astray. Or at the very least, not so far astray he cannot find his way back.

So when Rain tells him let me show you something, and you'll like this, Aeon is Down, trademark and everything, even more so when Rain breathes hot against his cheek and tells him to watch.

Slack-jawed and through heavy lids, he does.

Rain's been working them both up in his capable hands, stroking them off in- where again? Aeon can't remember, but he knows that they're meant to be gathering supplies for Papa. He knows this because absurdly, he's still clutching the piece of paper with his requested items. They need incense, fourteen pieces of wide-ruled notebook paper, and a box of Cheerios (crossed out and then, having obviously thought better of it, re-written). Aeon isn't sure where it might be kept, but he's confident it isn't in a dusty, half-empty room. Nor down their pants, but he supposes the argument could be made they were just being thorough.

"Watch," Rain whispers, and Aeon stares while he rubs their tips together, sharing pre, getting the blush of them all shiny. He watches the careful way Rain plays with them, the way the toys with the foreskin. And then he does something Aeon has never before experienced.

Aeon watches the head of his cock disappear under Rain's foreskin instead of his own.

The further crinkling of the paper in his fist while it clenches seems absurdly loud in the empty room.

The slide of it is delicious. Hot. Funny in a way. intimate and private in another that feels perversely sweet. The moans Rain lets out are low and soft, unable to keep it to himself and easily echoed by Aeon. Rain manages to slide them both over each other in turn, slick and hot and- weird, it looks weird, he thinks, not bad, but they're both hard and watch it all slide up and down, and Rain is dripping, he can feel it-

"Look how close we are," Rain kisses the corner of his mouth.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #rain/aeon #rain/phantom #rain x aeon #rain x phantom

[fleetsparrow]

I know I'm a messy bitch, but can I just say that I am L I V I N G for the current NaNoWriMo scandal???

There are not enough hours in the DAY for me to indulge in the deliciousness of this affair. There's drama! Intrigue! Unreasonable and illegal demands of unpaid volunteers!

Whether anyone wants my thoughts or not, here they are:

I am willing to bet good money that the current runners of NaNo are trying to incorporate. They are trying to make NaNo a Brand that can be Trademarked and Sold and Milked for all it's worth. NaNo is in her Venture Capitalist Era and she will be going down in a blaze of... whatever the opposite of glory is.

I truly think that the current owners were banking on NaNo having the good PR of a decade's long non-profit that would cover for the fact that they are going to be selling it to the highest bidder (if they haven't already), and that we would be so happy for them to do it because of Brand Loyalty.

It would honestly explain so much of the last few years, up to and including the recent forums bullfuckery and these new ML NDAs they're trying to pass.

And, before anyone accuses me of reveling in other people's misery (I mean, you're right, that is what I'm doing, but still) with no skin in the game, I'm not a stranger to the NaNo world. I've been here for a lot of years, too.

Yes, there will be a grieving process for what one was, but, my friends, that ship has sailed. A salute to her what once reigned queen, and flights of angels sing her to her rest.

And don't let the door hit you on the way out.

#fleet rambles #I'm honestly trying to keep it together #but this feels a long time coming #shout out to what she was #but we will persevere #nano #nanowrimo

[emeraldtart]

I always want to see the Strawhats use each other's moves during battle. Maybe they get in a situation where they couldn't use their trademark attacks for some reason (losing their weapons, sea stone prism, etc.,) so they resort to using their fellow crewmates' moveset to do so.

Zoro getting into a stalemate and his swords out of reach. The enemy hasn't notice him yet, so he need to take them down somehow. So he uses Asura Mode and uses Robin's Clutch technique, snapping a lot of bones in the process.

Brook using Zoro's multi swords style to battle againsts an opponent as his cane sword was snapped in half by the enemy. He looks like the Grim Reaper when using this technique.

Sanji centering all the heat within the room into one attack, and when that fails realise that since he throw away the heat the room became freezing, so he uses Brook's technique and instead of flaming kicks he now has frozen skates that can cut and freeze through anything.

Nami learning from Sanji's Diable Jambe and creates a rain of fire, or better yet a flaming tornado. Plus, since the weather in One Piece is weird she might able to utilise the strange weather phenomenon to her advantage.

Chopper using Nami's knowledge of electricity to arm himself with it. So in addition to his forms he can now discharge bolts of lightning by using static collected in his Guard Point. Or if he wants to speed it up, asks Nami to hit him with a Lightning Tempo.

Usopp using a combination of his shots in a similar way to Chopper. That is, he manages to make a two in one shot, which has two layers and has two effects instead of one. He and Chopper try to see what happen if they combine rumble ball with one of his pop greens. Needless to say experimentations involving combining those two are now illegal on the ship.

Jinbe using Usopp's advice on how to aim on fast moving enemies. He doesn't use a device or anything but needless to say he kinda has his own water gun now. It has better precision, so Jinbe doesn't need to worry about hitting his friends. It doesn't have a huge range like the kabuto, but still packs a punch.

Luffy learning stances from Jinbe and how to ground himself better. It doesn't go well because, well... Luffy. But he did learn how to further enhance the rebounding attacks he uses against Enel on Skypiea. Zoro has a harder time dodging Luffy's accidental punch now.

Franky modifying himself to have a cable in between his wrists and fists, so when he uses a rocket punch he can pull his fist back, or better yet make a slingshot with it.

And finally, Robin using Franky's speed build technique he used on Thriller Bark. She's nowhere near as good as Franky when it comes to building, but she is very good at doing the opposite. She had dismantled a lot of the Marine's ship engines by now.

#One piece #Au #straw hat pirates #mugiwara crew #Mugiwara no kaizoku #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #Nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #god usopp #Sanji #black leg sanji #kuroashi no sanji #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #Nico robin #franky #Cutty flam #Brook #soul king brook #jinbe #jinbei

[starlahuskyz]

Chances - Chapter 5

Summary: After reaching the boardwalk, Jordan finds she has to save a kid from certain death. And the Lost Boys soon catch up and find a shocking discovery about Jordan.

Back to the boys finally yippeee. Finally using the tw tags too.

Chapter 4 <<< >>> Chapter 6

TW// Blood, Death, brief mention of Body Disfigurement

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Boardwalk

Jordan watches as a little boy around 10 years or so runs past her along with at least 5 crazies chasing after him. After seeing them run out of sight, she sees the person who cried out. A very pretty looking woman, with a very hippie fashion sense. The woman spots Jordan staring and she darts towards her and clings to her.

"You have to help him please!" She can barely get the words out as tears begin to form.

“Was that your brother-” Jordan is cut off as the woman starts heading in the opposite direction.

“Please help him! They’ll kill him! I need to find his brothers, please go help him.” She heads in the direction which Jordan presumes is where his brothers are. Jordan takes a second to process what just happened before making a decision.

“Say no more.” Jordan soon starts running in the direction she saw them go in.

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

“What do you guys think, gold or silver?” Paul holds up two necklaces to his brothers.

“Gold matches your hair.” Marko comments.

“Fuck no, gold is tacky. Go with silver.” David places a cigarette to his lips.

“Neither, you look fine the way you are.” Dwayne says as he tries on some bulky looking rings.

“Dwayne!” A voice calls out. Dwayne immediately stops what he’s doing and runs to the source of the voice.

“Star! What’s going on? Where’s Laddie?” Dwayne looks frantically for his boy.

“He’s in trouble! Surfer Nazis.” Star looks to all of them.

“How many?” David casually asks.

“I saw five of them.”

“Well boys, let’s waste ‘em.” They all headed for their bikes and road off to search for them.

“Someone went after them to help Laddie.” Star told them as they rode through the boardwalk.

“What did they look like?” Paul asked

“Short, dark hair with a white headband-"

“Red crop top and ripped jeans? Marko suddenly piped up.

“Um, yes. Do you know her? Wait, is it the girl you've been after?” 

“Yeah” Marko sighs, It was her trademark outfit he always saw her in. He tried not to get too infatuated with thinking about her. He needs to stay focused.

Paul then said “Aw shit Marko! Your girl is gonna need your help! Track her down man!” Marko rolled his eyes as Paul cackled and headed towards the outskirts of the boardwalk.

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

The area is quieter, mainly with secluded alleyways and condemned buildings. No one seems to be around. They all split up to look for where the group might be. Not too long after arriving, David calls out to the group and says “I think I found your girl Marko…” His demeanor wasn’t a nice one, this can’t be good.

When they finally group back together, David is at an dark alley. He lights a cigarette and points into it "Look." They are greeted to the sight of four carcasses with one guy in the hands of Jordan with her back turned to the group. She’s growling and clamping her teeth onto the guy’s neck as he tries to cry out, but is unsuccessful. Blood is sprayed over all of the walls of the alleyway and the bodies are all disfigured in one way or another.

“Holy shit…” Paul comments which causes Jordan to turn around. Her eyes flash red and yellow and blood stains her face and clothes. Paul turns to Marko and says “Dude, she’s a vampire.”

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Taglist (If you wanna be tagged, just ask ^ ^)

@blog4horror @ria-coolgirl @oceansrose2002 @hypocriticaltypwriter @deliciousfestsalad

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #tlb jordan

[henghost]

thinking about why i love the jamie/sy dynamic so much. i think it comes fundamentally from their difference: sy's inability to remember, and jamie's inability to forget. we tend to think of memory as something passive, some kind of inevitable degradation, but--as sy reminds us every so often--to forget is something active, a pathway to advantage and strength.

nietzsche discusses this concept in depth in his genealogy of morals: for nietzsche, forgetting is "no mere vis inertiae as the superficial imagine; it is rather an active and in the strictest sense positive faculty of repression," "an apparatus of absorption," "a plastic, regenerative and curative force." finally he concludes, "What we experience and absorb enters our consciousness as little while we are digesting it . . . as does the thousandfold process involved in physical nourishment . . . so that it will be immediately obvious how there could be no happiness, no cheerfulness, no hope, no pride, no present, without forgetfulness." sy is the innocent child who cannot hold onto details that have no immediate value for him. this way, he is closer to a hippo or a vine: he is driven by desire or will alone, rather than some kind of historical debt. this is why he is reckless, difficult to control.

jamie, meanwhile, is of course the opposite. he is cursed to remember everything. he has an inescapable debt to memory in the form of his notebook. make no mistake: this is a punishment. nietzsche writes, "‘A thing must be burnt in so that it stays in the memory: only something that continues to hurt stays in the memory." to me, this suggests that jamie is in constant psychic pain, poor baby. perhaps this is why he must adopt his trademark cautious, skeptical, and above all passive demeanor.

this may also shed some light on the nobility's fascination with project caterpillar--at first it is easy to assume that they intend to use it for themselves as yet another "upgrade," but more likely in my view is that they intend to use it on their subjects. nietzsche documents how, in order to develop the faculty for memory in humans (because it would be a mistake to assume that it is "natural"; most if not all other living beings are incapable of memory in the way we understand it) it was first necessary to punish. punishment creates a kind of "memory of the future," it creates fear to control the natural animal impulse. we remember what happened to recipient of punishment and prevent ourselves from committing that same transgression. it stands to reason, therefore, that the nobility would like to make it impossible for the general public to forget, as it could only increase the nobility's power and control.

#twigblr #sylvester lambsbridge #henghost's twig arc #nietzsche #lots more to say about christianity's role in all this #but i'll cut it off there for now

[cringeyvanillamilk]

I suddenly had the urge to draw more content of my recent kny ocs, Rin and Yukito! ❄✨

Under the cut are small notes and thought processes behind their design.

Design/misc. notes:

For the first pic, the background was a screenshot I found online!

Translation of Japanese text: “Ice Pillar Kiyomizu Rin” “Snow Pillar Kiyomizu Yukito”

Rin and Yukito’s designs are polar opposites of each other to showcase their contrasting personalities. However, I still maintained visual cues that they are related to each others by their matching frosty colored hair.

Their hair color and shape is supposed to resemble the snowy top of a mountain.

Their eyes both have white diamond shaped pupils. Diamond shaped for their winter motif and white to represent their pure and good-natured soul.

Rin isn’t a morning person because she stays up late while Yukito sleeps in early and wakes up early to go on a peaceful morning walk.

Last pic is a collage of inspirations and references for my OCs! Snowy mountains to represent their hair, snowy forest to represent their favorite season, brass knuckles and a white katana to represent their weapon of choice, bandaged hands to present Rin’s tough personality and trademark bandaged hands, and a white fluffy scarf to represent Yukito’s soft personality and trademark scarf.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny oc #demon slayer oc #my oc #my art #Also I updated their backstory and now their previous mentors are OCs from a friend! #My friend's OCs were the previous ice and snow pillars before they (spoilers) passed away- #BECAUSE MY FRIEND LOVES A N G S T #This is why the current ice and snow pillars are Rin and Yukito! #I can finally rip-

[iheartbookbran]

Honestly seeing all the new HOTD pictures is kinda surreal bc they actually make the show look cool? Like for starters just based on the pictures and few minutes of footage we have so far the costumes look ten times better than anything Clapton ever did in GOT, like… those costumes look like something rich medieval people would actually wear, and we even got variety and color??? And those trademarked silly GRRM’s helmets???? I can’t believe it.

I’ve also been reading the new article and some of the things they’ve added are also pretty neat, an tbh the source material is I think perfect for this kind of adaptation because it’s so flimsy and vague to start with the writers have a lot of leeway to tweak things and give more depth to the characters if they prove themselves to be talented enough to pull it off, which I think the audience will be able to make a judgement on that pretty quickly since the new writers won’t really have GRRM’s scenes and dialogue to fall back on the way D&D did, only the broad strokes of what happens in the story, but still a clear ending in sight (and given what happened with the original series, that’s a huge relief already).

And all of that leaves a sour taste in my mouth in what otherwise would be a show I would be excitedly looking forward to… mostly because of Dany, of course. And I don’t mean it in the sense of like, Rhaenyra “losing” at the end is equally as bad as what GOT did to Dany which is a take I’ve seen floating around an I don’t necessarily agree with. The Dance, the way I see it, is a conflict streaming out of sheer misogyny and what society would do in order to keep women out of power, and Rhaenyra is both a victim and a perpetrator of that, but the story is still very centered around the nobility and a commentary of what they would do to keep their status quo and power, no matter how they hurt the people who depend on them in the process. That’s like, the complete opposite of Daenerys “Why do the Gods make kings and queens if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?” Targaryen.

That’s the whole point of Dany imo, how much she cares and how she’s so willing to act in order to implement change and help those who need it, in spite of the repercussions that come with it. That doesn’t scream Rhaenyra to me (though I don’t know how the show is gonna flesh her out, and I’m curious to see Emma D'Arcy and how they work around to make the character more nuanced), but maybe that’s a topic for another post.

My point is that at the of the day, Dany is the original Targ, she is the most important Targ, the fact that there’s like 3 different Targ centered shows in development is only because of her, that’s her legacy, but still HBO didn’t care enough to prevent her character from being so utterly butchered. That’s the problem.

#do i have a point in writting all of this?? eh just that i’m still bitter about g*m* *f thr*n*s and will in fact die mad about it #i wanna make it clear that though i’ve got some criticism of rhaenrya as a person #SHE WAS STILL IN THE RIGHT #aegon the usurper and alicent were huge backstabbing assholes and she was the rightful heir. fight me #still i wouldn’t say she’s like dany #literally nobody is like dany she set the bar too high #and honestly as curious as i am about all these ‘successor shows’ as grrm calls them #ultimately dany’s still a presence hanging over all of them and specifically the targ-related ones #which lbr is gonna be the majority of them precisely *because* of dany #it’s like a never ending cycle #daenerys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #asoiaf #twoiaf #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #hotd #got #dracarys to d&d

[roamingtigress]

The Merry Misadventures of Hosea and The Mustached Idiot

Chapter Two:

Just Another Day in Valentine

Valentine is one of those towns. Smells like sheep shit, while the shit is being shot around town.

And sometimes, something different happens there. Many different things can happen there, and I don't mean the usual 'rooty tooty cowboy shootouts', or whatever you may call them.

Allow me to explain.

Nothing against Cripps, but beer sitting out in the sun for God knows how long, stays drinkable for only so long. We give Matilda a pat on the head before I saddle up my constant, Silver Dollar, and Dutch tends to Winner Bell's tack; she's a lovely black Standardbred mare, who he paid top dollar for and she rides a smooth ride, which is always nice for our old bones. I was skeptical of his choice at first (there was a beautiful dappled grey and white Missouri Fox Trotter gelding at the sale that looked the part), but she proves her worth with every ride. Rarely have I seen her spook at anything; a trademark of the breed, fine racing qualities aside, is their mind; a sensible breed that I feel far too many people overlook. I'll sooner take her for a ride before that big bastard Dynaformer, a brute of a Thoroughbred who'd sooner bite you than let you stay on his back when the wolves come out. And Dutch cannot stop bragging about her pedigree; a blood relative of Joe Patchem.

"Old Girl, you know how it goes - !"

I smile. Dutch always insists on helping me up onto the saddle. He says he's just being chivalrous. Inwardly though I think he's worried about me breaking my hip if I get up, and the horse spooks at something and dumps me. I'm not that fragile!

All the same, I let him help me up and he takes me by hand and gives it a kiss. I boop him on the nose. "You're never going to let me onto and out of the saddle on my own."

"Thought I'd earn my keep around here."

Dutch gives a wink and after getting up into the saddle with the grace of a panther wearing tight pants, leads the way down a path through Cumberland Forest. It wasn't the shortcut we normally take, but it was the one that the wolves used less of. Or so he thought.

Out comes the big bastards as if on cue; as soon as he stepped out of the boundaries so the camp, we heard them howling. Dutch quickly dispatches the pair with his dual Schofields; doing so he rendered them one star; Cripps won't be happy, but we both remained in the saddle. Well done! But on the subject of Cripps, there's a funny business with the hunting wagon; for whatever reason, we can't have our riding horses out at the same time as our hunting wagon horse, normally Judy, sometimes Job, a slightly less attractive but nonetheless reliable but slightly stupid Suffolk Punch stallion who I feel doesn't need to have his balls, but that's not our decision.

So we call our horses away after dismounting, and Dutch faces the opposite side of the trail we want the wagon to come at and gives a whistle. Normally Judy or Jack come trotting along the path, pretty much but again, there's some funny business going on. He's frustrated, and startling me, he shoots into the ground.

"Why'd you do that for?!" I shout. "They might have been held up by another wagon!"

Unperturbed by me shouting at him, Dutch smiles that crooked smile, and points at Job coming up the path. He couldn't have come up the path at a slower pace. By the time he gets here the rest of the pack could have come and eaten us all.

"Works every time."

I simply sigh, shaking my head. That man. But, we both load the carcasses up into the wagon, dismiss it, and then whistle our riding horses back. It was a very strange process and we remount again (and I was again not 'allowed' to get up on Silver Dollar on my own) and we continue on our way.

For once, I was looking forward to going to Smithfield's Saloon; a cold beer and there's almost always an open chair or a few for some poker! There are always some strange individuals there with strange names such as '420' and strange clothing, some that do not appear to be from this era, but who am I to judge? Often these individuals are friendly and curious, but Valentine is known for its 'griefers', people that get a rise out of troubling others; someone would die and then come back somehow, and the person who killed them would then kill them again, and this could go on for some time. Dear old Dutch is fond of this strange community, the people fascinate him. He's not one for big towns, but he makes it a point to visit Valentine daily; at times he gets ferociously bullied even after giving them a friendly wave, at others, they crack jokes and he rolls with the punches. At other times, they have a beer with him and they shoot the breeze. When he returns back to camp, he pulls out a notebook, and makes notes of what he saw and who he met, trying to get a better understanding of the populace. And I knew he enjoyed the attention he was getting from them, positive or negative. He's come back with bullets in his hat more than once. He can absolutely take out these bully boys and girls but just chooses not to; he'd rather inconvenience them; Bola them, hogtie, set them up on a horse and flee them. John did once tell me though he saw Dutch being chased by a woman throughout Valentine, and when I asked Dutch about the incident, he simply got flustered, I caught some flush on his cheek and told me he was just happening to be jogging away from her. Indeed!

I do ramble on a bit, pardon me.

As we approach the town, we get a distinct feeling that not all is what it usually seems. We approach the town from the road leading up to the sheriff's office, and we just stop to take in the sight that is laid out in front of us. There are cherry blossoms lining the street, and big beautiful floral displays along the shopfronts. We hitch our horses by the sheriff's office and just stare at the scene unfolding, dumbfounded.

"I think we made the wrong turn, Dutch - " I mean, parts of it look like Valentine; the buildings, that is. With all that was going on, there wasn't a lawman in sight. Something fishy was going on.

It didn't take long for Dutch to deduct what exactly was going on, or what wasn't.

"Madam Nazar."

I raise an eyebrow. Now we just started the Collector role yesterday, we got that metal detector, and the maps, and he bought an extra outfit of his own and other things we really didn't need to buy but did anyways. I don't think we'll run out of Yarrow anytime soon. Nazar is an interesting, mysterious woman, but what would she gain out of doing such a thing?

"Ma-DAM Na-ZAR!" Dutch points at a chest some shady-looking individual makes appear out of nowhere, and some strangely dressed individuals, one with a stag head as their hat, reach into it and grab some bars of gold. He pouts when I lightly slap his hand, having a feeling of what was on his mind.

Poor Dutch. Just not getting the connection between these happenings with the strange individuals who were roping each other left and right, some from the top of buildings.

As if by some strange, involuntarily defensive, reactionary (over-reactionary) move, Dutch unholsters his Schofields as he eyeballs a watermill stuck up by the Druggist. Think for a moment of a cat unsheathing its claws when it really doesn't need to do that, well this is Dutch's version of that. It's gotten us into trouble before, nothing ever good comes of it. I don't think the sight of trees - and a watermill - and now a giant Live Oak Tree that we see suddenly appearing at the stable warrants the unholstering of weaponry, but here we go.

"Put that away!" I shout.

There are all sorts of inane happenings about here right now, and I'd like to go and have a drink without further incident that could get more out of control with one

reactionary shot being fired, but before he could respond to me, he was tackled from behind by someone who looked like Lenny but somehow managed mangled the spelling of his name.

"FER CHRIST'S SAKES!" Dutch barks as he's quickly hogtied; he threw a punch at his captor when he was tackled but it was too late, his fate was sealed, and my Duchess was going to be whisked away to god knows where, and god knows what was going to happen to him.

Or not. I pummel the man with every inch of his life and knock him out cold. The other man that is, not Dutch, though I am sometimes tempted to beat that pain in the ass like a redheaded stepchild, it's a good thing he's cute. Probably again my better judgement, I free from his binds and help him up. He's pouting at the state he's in, never liking to be dirty, but I give him a squeeze on his shoulder and lead him back up onto the wooden walkway to the saloon.

"Come along, doll," I spoke quietly, but I smile as that particular nickname always makes him blush, particularly in public. "Don't feel too ashamed. I've seen worse come in there and it's Smithfield's, not the Ritz Carleton."

Not even the saloon was spared of this apparent divergence from its normalcy. Dutch felt even more self-conscious; the place has been transformed into quite the classy establishment, that you might find in Saint-Denis. Floral displays, statues, fancy table setups. And as usual, gaudily dressed individuals, some buying drinks, one hogtying another and then doing something shady with them. I heard a gunshot outside and strange "music" coming from somewhere. There are no less than 10 Legendary bears roaming about, and I think I hear a lion.

"Trelawny's work." Dutch deducted, shouting over that noise.

"Got to be Trelawny. Working on a deal with Madam Nazar."

Dutch just can't even make up his fucking mind. He smiles and gives a friendly wave at a lady vaguely dressed as Sadie Adler, and then blows a kiss at a gentleman that at first thought was a bear walking on two feet, who in turn, though stunned, gives a friendly wave in return before he hogties another gentleman, dressed as a wolf or something. I give Dutch a light poke in the ribs as we wait for our turn to be served, smirking as he flinches and tries to stifle a laugh.

"Trying to make me jealous?"

Dutch loves making me jealous and getting possessive of him. As well, I've seen him at it too. He gets a rise out of intimating the would-be flirtee using his height and glare as a weapon, and has never gone a step further, but I've got to admit, it's sexy.

"N-no, never!" Dutch lies, absentmindedly twirling a strand of his hair with a finger, though pretending to just tuck it up underneath his hat. He always plays coy and cute when he tries to get out of trouble with me and damnit, it often works. On the rare occasion, it doesn't, he just tries extra hard, with extra pouting.

I know better.

"Sure . . . " I give him another poke, a little harder this time and he squeaks out a protest.

"Not out in public, Old Girl!" Dutch whined, complete with a pleading puppy face, his voice with vulnerability as he leans in and whispered. "I don't want the general public knowing about my, uh, weaknesses."

I smile and give him one of my punch taps on the shoulders. "What, that you're ticklish?" I speak in a voice that's not quite a whisper.

"'sea!" Dutch whined again, now getting a little grumpy with his little secret out of the bag, maybe masking some inner vulnerability.

"You wouldn't!" His voice cracks.

"I would!" I grin, and with a spidering motion of my fingers, that stoic, grumpy expression fades into one of a plea.

I see a flush of colour on Dutch's cheeks as a lady behind us who doesn't appear to be dressed from this era, named Your RDO Girlfriend, giggles. She's been listening the whole time, with great amusement. I must admit that I get a bit of a thrill seeing this big brute squirm in public. I love doing it especially when he's grumpy or argumentive, or because I feel like it. I should do it more often.

"He lies!" Dutch nervously insisted to her, his voice cracking at 'lies.' She just laughs again and joins a group of ragtag individuals at a table.

"Are you ready to order or are you intending on holdin' up everyone with your domestic situation?" The barkeep barks, glaring at us with judgment in his eyes as he polishes. There's a considerable lineup around the bar, all waiting their turn. Now it was my time to be put on the spot.

"Yes, um . . . I'll get a beer, and a whisky for my scatterbrained travelling companion. Sheep farmers these days, they're not nearly as rough and tough as they look."

A voice of disdain barks at me from behind. Without even knowing what he looks like, I can tell you he looks like a walrus. "That ain't a sheep farmer with you, that's a - "

"You hush!" I snap at him, knowing exactly what he was going to say (nobody insults my Dutch aside from me), and with our drinks in hand, we head on over to a table that has someone's corpse strewn on it.

"Died wearin' clashing colours - " Dutch tsks as he pops the carcass on someone else's table that was being occupied by some normal townsolk; they leave in disgust.

"What a pity."

I just shake my head and laugh. I think I've been a bit harsh on my old Duchess today and lightly tap him on the hand. "You are something else, my pet. I think I've been a bit harsh on you."

There was a twinkle in my love's eyes, unquestioned love in them, and he places a hand over one of mine, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. "Just keepin' me in line, 'sea. Someone's got to do it."

I let out a small gasp as he reached over and in a bold move, just kisses me right there and then, not caring about if there were any judgemental looks, words, or thoughts. He is gentle yet deeply passionate, giving me the opportunity to pull away if I wanted to. I've long been hesitant to show affection in public, and I feel my cheeks blush, but . . . . Of course, after overcoming my surprise, I return it, madly, truly, deeply. Maybe some spectators, maybe some left in disgust, but we didn't care. I was feeling a thrill, a rush, as if I was a young man again, feeling that rush of being caught with a leg around his waist as we engage in a bit of tongue tango, just slightly out of public view but close to being caught, which we might be doing right now.

We have about four drinks each following our first, laughing drunkenly as we hold onto each other as we're escorted out by two big brutes. Dutch's clothes are lazily half affixed on his person, and I have an explanation for this. This time around I'll blame myself as I allowed things to get a little silly, if not encouraged under my state. Plan Man thought he'd put on a little striptease for me (and a rather captive audience) on top of the bar, money thrown at the table, gunshots being fired by a Genesis1994 and someone else. It was some kiss, and it was some strong beer and whisky, and when the two and two go together, well! The sheriff is attacked by a lion just outside the saloon, which we sidestep away to avoid being brought into the foray. There are naked women and men running about, tackling and hogtying people into the muck, but the sight that stunned Dutch into silence (it doesn't happen too often), was the sight of no less than 30 apparent clones of Winner Bells on the balcony, roof and entranceway of the hotel.

"I think that WhiSky was BaD . . . !" Dutch slurred, pointing at the horses. "WhIch one Is OuRs?!"

Yes, the whisky, had to be the whisky, blame the whisky, you lout! But I was seeing it too. The beer must have been terrible, tErRibBle. Or there really was some wizardry afoot.

"Uhh, tha'd one!" I point to one pawing on the roof. One falls off and lands on some soul and we hear the overtly anguished cry to tell us that the gentleman is no longer well.

Dutch gives a whistle that even sounds inebriated. She doesn't come right away, she's normally obedient, but I can't blame her, there's a lot happening. He plucks a fancy red hat from the ground that was thrown astray during a melee battle with another strange person, a rather fancy thing with feathers, and puts it on. He looks rather good on it and he struts that strut with his stolen goods, but it doesn't last for long. The rightful owner tackles him and takes it back. I help him off of his feet and he then takes me up to some tall wooden walkway that's appeared from behind the stable.

"Ain't that a view, 'sea!"

He grins a crooked grin, slipping a hand around my waist, trying to be suave in his state as he gestures towards the general view which is impressive, or would be if I was sober, but I have to hold onto him lest we both fall over - which happens anyways when the whole structure disappears, and we both land not so gracefully into the muck of the stable's barrel racing paddock. The height from the fall should have been enough to kill us, but by some sort of sorcery, we're alive and well and just hold onto each other and laugh our asses off.

It was right then that we are nearly blinded into becoming sober when all of a sudden, some floating disk with bright lights appears from above us. Out pops Dutch's Schofields, and as I said earlier, nothing ever good comes out of that. He then does the most logical thing when faced with such an unusual occurrence; he starts blasting! As you can imagine the bullets are useless at penetrating the shell of this thing, and simply bounce away - and at us. I pull him away in time, he comes to his senses and holsters his guns, and I try to drag him away when we hear the angered shouts of lawmen. Apparently *we* have disturbed the peace.

"Think it's time to head back to camp, Dutch!" I shout over the sounds of that God-awful 'music" and people talking nonsense, and the whirr from that thing flying above us.

"What?!"

He's too young to play deaf with me. Mind you the whole area was a mess of noise, and as I drag him towards the horses who finally arrive on the scene for our rescue. Just as we go to mount our faithful, patient steeds, he does another logical move; he grabs a lawman off their horse and a whole cavalry of them comes out after us.. He tells me it just happened, but we also happened to get a bounty on our head for disturbance of the peace, and now assault!

"WE NEED TO GO, DUTCH!" I order, though admittedly there's a bit of a thrill running through my veins.

"I tHinK We neEd to GO!" Dutch echoes his sentiment, slurred voice and all.

"I insist!"

I'm forced to help him up onto dear Winner Bells who is fidgeting; she is so patient. I dodge a bullet and his hat is shot off as we finally get to take off; another swarm of lawmen come flying out at the opposite end of the street, all while the insanity is still unfolding before us. A man drags another man up onto a roof with rope, but that's fine for them, apparently.

"Just keep ridin', 'sEa, they'll eventually lose us!" Dutch shouts, managing to dodge more bullets despite flopping in the saddle like a drunken seal. He normally rides like the seasoned rider that he is, smooth sailing, but when he's had a few drinks under him . . .

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?" I yell back.

He was caught and is now again trying to wiggle out of his situation.

"I just KNOW! From what someone TOLD ME!"

Once we are out of the town, heading in the direction of our camp. . . We hear the hounds. We normally do not like to ride fast; we're experienced horsemen who'd rather not wear out our steeds, keep them in fine shape, and not jostle our old bones. But sometimes, desperate situations call for desperate measures. Sure enough, we do eventually lose them, but somewhere out by Heartlands; the lawmen were very upset about Dutch shooting a flying dish.

I will have a word with the boy will have a word when we get back, don't you think I won't!

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #vandermatthews #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #hoea x dutch #dutch x hosea #Valentine

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

Exclusive Interview!

"Eddie Redmayne: ‘The aspiration is always to make a great film and I don’t think I’ve made many of those’

For his latest role the Fantastic Beasts actor relished the chance to ditch the tweed suits and play against type as an American serial killer, he tells Kevin Maher.

The Times UK, October 15, 2022

"Six years ago, Eddie Redmayne put the word out. The Oscar-winning star of The Theory of Everything, who was already shooting the first instalment of the Fantastic Beasts franchise, let it be known that he wanted a change. Yes, he had become famous for a certain kind of moral rectitude in lavish period dramas that included Birdsong, The Other Boleyn Girl and Les Misérables (his tearful rendition of Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from that film has been viewed 7.4 million times on YouTube), but enough was enough. “It was me actively saying that I’m looking for something different. Something not British. Something, ideally, where it’s not me wearing a tweed suit.”

It has taken a while, during which time he has bashed out two more Fantastic Beasts and enjoyed a last dip in the period trough (The Aeronauts), but Redmayne’s desires have finally been met. In The Good Nurse all bets are off. The 40-year-old is in full reinvention mode as the prolific American serial killer Charles Cullen, a former nurse who during the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s is said to have murdered as many as 400 patients. Redmayne stars opposite Jessica Chastain, playing Amy Loughren, the co-worker who helped to bring Cullen to justice. And although Redmayne insists today that the film tilts towards Loughren’s “hero’s journey”, the sexy marketing sell is clearly “Newt Scamander does Hannibal Lecter”.

And he does it well. His Cullen is top-tier Redmayne, a mass of creepy physical touches (a blinkless smile, an off-kilter stare) and conflicted gestures perfected over three months of deep-diving research. “I found as much footage of Charlie as I could and I learnt the accent, I learnt the movement, and then I even went to nurse school, where I found out that I’m a f***ing useless nurse!” he says, chuckling at his inadequacies. Redmayne does this a lot. Good-natured self-deprecation. He is sipping decaf coffee in a swanky London hotel suite and wearing a crisp red and white “western-style” shirt that suggests a friendly yet slightly fragile cowboy. He peppers his conversation with asides about being not very good.

Of his movie career, he says: “The aspiration is always to make a great film and I don’t think I’ve made many of those.” Of his first big American outing, opposite Robert De Niro in The Good Shepherd, he says: “I was paranoid, I was disappointed and I did beige work.” And of his university days, doing theatre in Cambridge with his fellow students Dan Stevens, Rebecca Hall and Tom Hiddleston, he says: “I remember seeing Tom in Arcadia and he was amazing. Rebecca was always extraordinary, and I remember Dan doing the Scottish play with extraordinary power too. But to be clear, the theatre that I did in Cambridge was utterly appalling.”

He does, however, allow himself a vague acknowledgement of accomplishment regarding his stellar turn in The Good Nurse, honed over the intense preparation period that has become his trademark since playing the physicist Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything.

“Back then, James [Marsh, director of The Theory of Everything] basically said: ‘Eddie, to a certain extent this lives or dies based on your performance.’ So I said: ‘OK, if that’s the case, I need four months’ prep, I need a vocal coach, I need a movement coach and I need to do my research.’ And that process worked for me and taught me that, as an actor, I need a long, long runway.”

He talks some more about The Good Nurse and how it’s “not a documentary, but as close to the truth as you can get”. Of his unnerving performance, and his so-called radical shift away from period dramas and blockbusters, he says that it’s not so much a reinvention as a return.

Most audiences, he says, imagine that he emerged fully formed into the middle of Redmaynia (see the knockout trilogy of Les Misérables, The Theory of Everything and The Danish Girl). Whereas, in fact, he began as an intensely provocative character actor who burst on to the scene in 2007 playing, brilliantly, a neurotic pansexual murderer who sleeps with his mother in Savage Grace. He then moved on to become a drug-addicted paedophile in Hick.

He started out, in short, as Edgy Redmayne. Then something happened: fame came calling, and the edges, perhaps, were rounded off. “My film career started in America, doing these tiny movies that nobody saw,” he says. “So it’s been kind of wonderful to get back to some sort of root, some instincts that thrilled me when I started,” he says. “And I do feel regalvanised by it.”

The real start, however, was as “one of around eight thousand workhouse boys in the Sam Mendes production of Oliver!” Redmayne was 12 at the time and living in Chelsea, southwest London; his father was in corporate finance and his mother ran a relocation business. His childhood was “wonderful and loving”, and the Oliver! role launched him on a well-documented path from the Jackie Palmer Stage School (James Corden was a fellow student and ridiculed Redmayne about it on his American talk show) to school plays at Eton, then the belle époque era of the Cambridge drama darlings Stevens, Hall and Hiddleston.

The path ended in 2005 with Redmayne, at the time working behind the bar at the Builder’s Arms in Chelsea, flying to New York and banging down the doors of a production company there because he wanted to star in its small and incendiary movie about incest and murder (Savage Grace).

Yet the impact of Oliver!, he says, can’t be underestimated. “I was at school in London and I was allowed to leave during the middle of maths and take the Tube to Oxford Circus from Hammersmith, to the London Palladium, into the theatre and then around to the backstage of that theatre. The intoxicating romance of that was overwhelming. That was the drug.”

When fame hit, it landed with a wallop. He experienced Redmaynia as a sensory overload and something to integrate with his marriage to the antiques dealer Hannah Bagshawe (they married in 2014, the year of The Theory of Everything).

“The whole year of making The Theory of Everything was a blur because the stakes were so high and because I knew Stephen [Hawking] was going to see it. Then, when I was promoting the film, I was making The Danish Girl. And then, when I was making Fantastic Beasts, there was a day where I left the shoot, flew to LA, did press for The Danish Girl, walked the red carpet, got back on the plane and flew straight back into the Fantastic Beasts shoot. It is a period that is a hazy blur, and also because I was newly married, and then with young kids. It was an extraordinary time, but one that I still haven’t made much sense of.”

There are, nevertheless, memories of that period. On Les Misérables, for instance, he remembers asking the director Tom Hooper if he could do multiple takes of that Empty Chairs number. “I did twentysomething takes, back to back.” And why? He laughs, guiltily, and admits: “Because every day on that set you’d hear someone saying [drops voice to reverential whisper]: ‘Oh, have you heard Hugh’s [Jackman] extraordinary rendition of Who Am I? And, oh, Annie’s [Hathaway] I Dreamed a Dream?’ But my one they kept pushing further down the schedule. So, by the time you get there, the pressure is immense. So I said: ‘Let’s give it as many times as we can!’ ”

He remembers, on The Theory of Everything, meeting Hawking outside a London screening room, where the physicist was about to be shown the movie of his life. “I was terrified, like, ‘Hi Steve, hope you enjoy the film, let me know what you think.’ And he took about six minutes to type out his reply, and it said [does calm, unemotional voice]: ‘I will let you know what I think. Good or otherwise’. And I remember thinking: ‘If it’s otherwise, I probably don’t need the details.’ ”

Redmayne and his wife, Hannah Bagshawe

Then something curious happened. Just as Redmayne was at his most pre-eminent and professionally infallible (no wrong role, no bad performance), culture intervened. The vivid debates around identity politics looked unfavourably on Redmayne’s decision, as a cisgender man, to play a pioneering transgender woman, Lili Elbe, in The Danish Girl. His failure-proof Fantastic Beasts franchise similarly took a kicking owing to the forthright views of its creator, JK Rowling, whose “women are women” stance was deemed unacceptable and appeared to have a real-world impact on the box office performance of the series (each entry has underperformed, the most recent instalment, The Secrets of Dumbledore, being a near flop).

Redmayne reacted by announcing that the Danish Girl debacle had been “a massive learning curve” and that, although he disagreed with Rowling’s stance on trans women (“Trans women are women, trans men are men and non-binary identities are valid,” he says), he felt that the “vitriol” aimed at her on social media was “absolutely disgusting”.

On stage with Jessie Buckley in Cabaret

MARC BRENNER

Today, he says that identity politics and issues of representation are foremost on his mind when a role is offered. “Can I be totally honest?” he asks when I raise the subject. “It’s something that, with every job I do now and every job I take, I wrestle with. On the one hand, I believe that actors should be able to play anything and that freedom of artistic expression is important. On the other, I’m conscious that there are many marginalised communities that haven’t had a seat at the table, and until there is more even representation it feels wrong to be playing some of those parts.”

And Fantastic Beasts No 4? “That’s a very good question, and I don’t know the answer. It’s probably a question for [the series producer] David Heyman, JK Rowling and Warner Bros.”

He ends on the future, and on the work-life balance and spending as much time as possible with his children, Iris and Luke. “Actors are essentially circus performers,” he says. “And yet I had an upbringing that was very settled. And so trying to work out what’s best for our family is something that I question every day. It’s about not wanting my job, and my interests and my love for what I do to, like, damage my poor little ones.”

And his next role? “I don’t want to be the actor who says, ‘I can’t tell you about it’, but I can’t tell you about it.” But does that mean he is, right now, in the middle of his famous four months’ prep? Is he on the runway? His eyes light up. “Oh yes,” he says, beaming, a full diabolical smile from the reformed, regalvanised, Edgy Redmayne. “Always.”

The Good Nurse is in cinemas on October 19 and on Netflix from October 26".

-----

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/eddie-redmayne-the-aspiration-is-always-to-make-a-great-film-and-i-dont-think-ive-made-many-of-those-b7lwlqs5n?utm_medium=Social&utm_source=Twitter#Echobox=1665789950

#eddie redmayne #eddieredmayne #redmayne #the good nurse #the theory of everything #fantastic beasts #the times uk

[joz-yyh]

Love Host - Ch. 5 Preview

SUMMARY: A prequel to my fic, “Good Boy.” Takes place during the final scene of the game and the journey home afterwards. Miles becomes the host and the Walrider intends to consummate their bond. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (PREVIEW ONLY for swearing). The rest of the fic is rated E (for tentacle sex / xenophilia)

PAIRING: Walmiles (WalriderxMiles) WORD COUNT: 2,562

A/N: Miles meets up with Waylon at a diner and their tentative alliance is off to a rocky start. Also, the Walrider misbehaves a bit. The Murkoff goons that Miles has been avoiding are going to rear their ugly heads soon and it’s not going to be pretty -- unless you like bathing in red.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

The door to the old-timey diner rattles open, clanking against the glass, causing Miles to look up from his rumpled newspaper. A man dressed head to toe in denim walks in, a bow-legged swagger befitting the cowboy hat and boots, his bull-rider belt buckle glaring with a polished shine. It's definitely not the person Miles is waiting for so, he returns to nursing his coffee and keeping tabs on everyone who passes through.

"Need a refill," the waitress asks, coffee pot poised in her hand.

Miles turns towards the young redhead dressed in a vintage diner uniform and white apron, a dreamy look captivating his eyes at the promise of more caffeine.

"Sure, Becky," the reporter says after glancing at her name tag, holding out his cup for her to top it off.

"Is there anything else I can get you," she asks sweetly.

"I am good for now, thank you. Waiting for a friend," he smiles at her, charming when he needs to be, and she gives him one to match.

"Just holler if you need anything," says the twenty-something year old gal before she excuses herself away from his lonely booth in the corner, her curled bangs ponytail bobbing along with her.

Miles hears the trademark jingle bells of another patron entering the outdated decor of chrome and checkered tile, following the telltale sound with his eyes. With one look, Miles is convinced -- this man must be the notorious whistleblower he's been reading about. The man reeks of nervous energy and ripe paranoia, definitely the nerdy, introverted type judging by the dyed blonde hair and the casual flannel shirt with blue jeans.

"Waylon," Miles calls out from his booth, waving him over with a raised hand above his head.

The skittish man visibly flinches, deer caught in headlights, an absolutely priceless reaction. Waylon's giving off the distinct impression that he's about to make a run for it and bolt right back out the door and if so, the edgy reporter is going to handle things in the same vein as the Walrider and chase his scrawny ass down and throw him inside the trunk of his car for a little one on one chat.

Thankfully, Miles doesn't have to resort to such crude tactics because the blonde treads further inside, albeit cautiously, offering up remorseful pleasantries to the surrounding guests for disturbing the peace. The timid man bows forward in an effort to make his height appear smaller, apologetic, pacifying the assortment of stares he encounters with friendly gesticulations.

The techie's procession of moral posturing is excessive in Miles’ opinion, but the lumbering gait in which he does it is the most compelling detail. It tells of an injury, probably recently obtained by his guarded menial limp. Seems like the blonde is still not used to walking on it, one sneaker shuffling across the linoleum floor as the other takes the majority of the weight.

The engineer wedges himself between the table, his gimp right leg carrying him dutifully as he sits down in the seat opposite of Miles, his cute facade dropping into a reproachful death glare now that they're in a more private, face to face setting.

"Did you really have to announce it to everyone," Waylon mutters, fidgeting in his seat, making the cushions squeak, "I am trying to keep a low profile."

The nonchalant journalist shrugs, slouching back against the polished vinyl seat cushions, cigarette held between his bandaged fingers.

Miles is sizing up the other male, having been looking forward to meeting him in person, and the "adorable kitten that wouldn't harm a fly" exterior is concealing a feral side of teeth and claws, however modest and nonlethal they may be.

"Figured you wouldn't see me here all the way in the back. Thought, I'd make it easier for you," Miles explains, a generalization disguised as a courtesy. Now that he's seen just how easy it is to get under Waylon's skin, the investigative reporter finds sadistic appeal in the sport of ruffling this guy's feathers.

Waylon cringes at the apparent thoughtfulness, trying to err on the side of politeness, but the visage is brittle at best.

"Thanks," the grimace that takes over the blonde programmer's face makes it look like it physically hurts him to say it. "Do me a favor and be a little more tactful, please."

Miles takes minor (and by minor I mean major) offense to the beseechment. He can be tactful – he could make "tact" his middle name if he really wanted to. It was simply a matter of personal preference that he chooses not to.

"Can't say how nice it is to finally meet you in person," Miles remarks, a bite of sarcasm to his words.

Injured hands fold up the spread out newspaper taking up space on the tabletop, tossing it in Waylon direction before the blonde can say anything else that might be considered offensive (namely about his missing fingers).

Waylon looks down at the newsprint, skimming the text. It's a press release about Murkoff corp. They claim no direct involvement or knowledge of the crimes of their subsidiaries. A spokesman assures that the company is just as distraught and disturbed by these recent events as anyone and in an effort of goodwill, they'll be donating to the affected families and a few select charity projects.

Waylon laughs louder than he intends to, catches himself midway in the act, glancing around self-consciously at the other clientele before quieting down.

"Can't say I expected much else," Waylon sighs, exasperated. He's pulling at his short, choppy bangs, lobbing the affronting newspaper back at the one who served him with it.

“And I still can't believe you came today," Miles says, cigarette caught between his lips now. He catches the folded up pages as they slide across the smooth surface of the table, tucking it inside his jacket pocket for safe keeping.

"Same to you," the techie says, "When Peacock told me Miles Upshur wanted to meet with me, I thought for sure it was a trap set up by you know who, but then I saw the news broadcast and I needed to know what happened after …" the blonde chokes up, a scowl weighing his head down. "You never would have been there if it wasn't for me…," the guilt-ridden man whispers to himself, almost an octave too low for the other to hear, hands clenched into fists.

Miles is silent for a long minute, his cigarette dangling along his bottom lip in a frown. He takes a deep inhale, the strong hit of nicotine making his brain tingle, blowing out the second hand smoke towards the other's face.

"Can you put that out," Waylon grits, trying not to gag. He pinches his nose shut and fans away the fetid fumes from his face.

"No," Miles declares matter-o-factly, looking very smug about his decision to antagonize the other. He even goes so far as to accentuate the little flicks he gives to the filter, dabbing the burning end into the ashtray before going in for another long drag.

Waylon's pained expression only serves to elevate Miles' good mood into a great one because he prefers to see the software engineer's angry side instead of a mopey shell of what he assumes to be his former self and he's certainly accomplished that much.

Borrowing Waylon's words since he put it so eloquently, "You know who is on clean up duty. We’re on borrowed time and I need to know that I can trust you."

"I mean, I don't get it," Waylon's eyebrows arch, looking utterly perplexed by the enigma that is Miles Upshur, "Aren't we in the same boat here? What would I have to gain by turning you in?"

"Immunity," Miles says off-handedly, not really meaning it, just messing with the blonde a little, wanting to see how he would handle a pitch thrown out of left field.

Waylon grits his teeth, his shoulders bunching up as he bristles, the intensity in eyes a proponent story of doom and gloom. He slides his forearms across the table, chopping through the air with the seriousness of what he’s about to say.

"We’re their personal playthings, the whole goddamn world is. They treat their own employees like drones, experimental lab rats when it serves them. They did the same to me when they found out what I was doing and you think I would risk working with them again? For God’s sake, they're all psychotic bastards Miles. They have no conscience, no morals, no loyalty. Everyone is expendable to them, including me," Waylon is doing his best to sound convincing, putting all his shoulda-woulda-coulda emotions into the delivery of his little speech.

"Fair point," Miles agrees, a little too quickly for Waylon's taste, the other man expecting him to put up more of a fuss.

"Sorry, if I seem a bit testy," Miles continues, "I am what the military affectionately refers to as, ‘FUBAR.’"

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Waylon laments, averting his gaze as he wrings his hands on the counter, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry…”

Miles feels a pang of guilt for teasing the blonde, not expecting the apology. The fellow asylum survivor knows he should probably return the sentiment, contemplates doing so, but a grudge of self-righteous anger impedes him and he’s stubborn to offer one.

Maybe the brunette was being petty, but he couldn’t get soft, not when he needed to strip away the socially acceptable veneer to see the bare-bones hidden underneath, dissect and analyze what really made Waylon tick -- his personality, his character -- a necessary interrogation tactic he learned during the war.

Karma seems to bite him in the ass in the next instant because Miles breaks out into a cold sweat, his eyes nearly bulging out his skull when he sees the full-form of the Walrider involuntarily manifest itself beside Waylon.

FuckFuckFuck. What is happening right now. He told it to stay out of sight.

The demon's claws are playing with the overgrown splay of blonde hairs near Waylon’s ear and the man brushes a hand through the coarse strands to dismiss the odd itch, totally unassuming.

Miles' inner voice urges him to remain calm, to act casual, but it's hard when the Walrider is loose, twice as deadly as a rampaging bull in a china shop and the host can only pray that it doesn’t do anything too extreme that might compromise their whereabouts or identities.

The brunette shifts his gaze, checking his surroundings, hoping that no one else can see the menacing creature that is being very naughty right now. There's no blood-curdling screams, no ensuing hysterics or chaos, just business carrying on as usual so, maybe everyone really is blind and completely oblivious to the nature of the company that they're in.

Likewise, even the unsuspecting engineer hasn’t noticed the addition of a third wheel to their group, too busy trying to figure out the reason behind the sudden change in the journalist's demeanor. At first the blonde attributes it to the sensitive subject of his apology, but Miles is the picture of a nuclear meltdown so, the techie follows the direction of Miles' stare, and yeah maybe the room seems a little darker, ominous now that the sunlight is fading, but there's something else that's different, he just can't tell what exactly.

"Does it feel colder in here to you," Waylon asks, shivering from the eerie vibe that’s circulating around him.

Miles is getting just a little jealous because he can’t believe the Walrider breached the sanctity of his skin just to fucking play with Waylon like they're old fucking friends. (Though admittedly, Miles was at fault for having started this game. He's been picking on Waylon since the start of their meeting so he can't really condemn his companion for doing the same).

"OK, so don't freak out," Miles gripes, attending to his headache, eyes clamped shut so he doesn't have to meet Waylon's eyes.

"Miles …” Waylon warns, impending dread creeping into his voice, “what are you saying? Freak out about what?"

"Alright,” Miles sighs heavily, tormented by breaking a vow of secrecy, " it’s ... it's the Walrider."

"The Walrider," Waylon echoes distantly, tilting his head just slightly, one eyebrow arched as he searches for the context of what that could mean.

As if on cue, the programmer feels another ghostly touch start near his temple and realization hits him like a brick to the face.

The blonde flounders in his seat, knees hitting the underside of the table with a loud clatter. His frightened eyes dart around the room in a panic, looking for the source of the touch, coddling the side of his face that was violated.

The machine releases a pleased growl at this reaction and Miles can tell it's having way too much fun with the size of it's toothy grin.

"I told you not to freak out," Miles grunts, annoyed by the fact that everyone is refusing to listen to him today.

Waylon shuttles himself into the dead-end wall of the booth, redirects his gaze back at Miles, his lungs looking like they're going to burst out of his chest because he wants to scream, but he's trying his best not to.

"Holy shit," the distressed man curses, keeping his voice down, clutching at his shirt where his heart is beating frantically, "It's here? Y-you ... you have it with you?"

"Where else would I keep it, genius," is the brunette's terse reply, his headache getting worse, “it needs a host, remember? Didn't you help design the thing?"

Waylon shakes his head, "C-code… I helped code, but I didn't know ... I-I thought that..." Waylon trails off, unsure if it would be wise to say what he's really thinking.

"Fine, whatever – just calm down. It's not gunna hurt you,” Miles says, trying to reassure the other man that he wasn’t in any danger, "If anything, I think it likes you."

“Uh, I am not sure how to take that, actually.” Waylon answers honestly, a nervous laugh escaping him as he unfurls himself from the terror-stricken ball he’s contorted himself into.

"Wow, rude," Miles remarks flippantly, " You could at least have the decency to say, 'hello.'"

Waylon looks toward the faint outline of a dusty, abstract shadow, his brief session in the morphogenic engine still imbuing him with a tattered link to the weapon of mass destruction.

"Oh. Right. Uh ... " Waylon mumbles, trying to get his brain to un-panic itself, “H-hello?"

The Walrider seems to buzz happily, trilling at him and Waylon is settled enough to sit properly in his seat again, his shoulder still pressed against the wall to distance himself from the other side of the booth where the entity resides.

"Are you telling me it's friendly,” Waylon whispers suspiciously, trying to mask his words from the AI by cupping a hand around his lips.

"More than friendly," Miles declares with a seedy grin.

Waylon doesn't want to dive too deeply into that insinuation, white-washes the thought with another question before he can think too hard about the atrocities Miles committed in the name of xenophilia.

{End Prieview}

#my writing #love host #walmiles #walrider #miles upshur #waylon park #outlast #walmiles fanfiction #outlast fanfiction #the walrider #listen guys #waylon and miles will eventually be bros #but for now #they go tit for tat #it's called character deveolpment #they're not going to automatically like each other right away #give it time ya'll

[thewolfofpennsyltucky]

Mask Making Ethics: Rehauls, Conversions and Recasting.

Many folks within the masked community have probably heard the terms “rehaul,” “recast,” or conversion from time to time. You may be surprised that these terms do not solely exist within the mask community, but also branch out into the art and costuming communities as well as many more. While some long term members may already be versed with these words, I’ve spoken with quite a few newer members of many communities that are a bit confused as to what these terms are. This post will hopefully answer those questions as well as highlight what is and what is not ethical within the community.  Rehauls

Rehauling is the process of taking a mask and “amping it up,” if you will. One can typically see this with licensed character masks. No doubt you’ve seen some masks around and have thought to yourself: “That looks okay, but maybe it could look a little better.” By no means am I dumping on any artist or studio, but in a mass production setting, sometimes things get put on the backburner in an effort to get as many products out on the market as they can. It looks good, but it’s not 100% “there.” Maybe the sculpt is great but the paint job is off. For example, let’s take the Trick or Treat Studios Michael Myers mask from Halloween Kills. Like many fans and collectors, I found the mask to be sculpted very well, but lacking on the paint job. This is where rehauling comes in. Many have taken to buying these masks and rehauling them to their full potential. They can be sold online, which is perfectly ethical and legal AS LONG AS YOU MENTION IT IS A REHAUL. An example of this can be found at the link below, where Nick Mulpagano rehauls a TOTS Halloween Kills mask from start to finish.  Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=joLHAYRiw5o&t=765s Conversions

Conversions are in the same vein as rehauls in that they are perfectly legal and ethical. Still, it is good to give props to the original designer and distributor of the mask. But a conversion is exactly what it sounds like: taking one mask and converting into another mask. Examples of this include some of the masks worn by Slipknot in their earlier years. In my experience, when new members find this out, they’re blown away to learn that these masks started their life as a completely different thing all together. Chris Fehn (#3) wore a converted Distortions Unlimited Liar mask, which was made by and given to him by a prior member. James Root (#4) used a converted Forums Novelties Jester mask. The band purchased these, made modifications and turned these masks into their own thing. Nothing at all wrong with that. To see how this was done, check out the video by YouTube user iamtheniko to see a #3 Liar Conversion from start to finish (Or for the Slipknot Mask community, the “Spit It Out” Liar). Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4mwXy4c034

Recasting

Recasting is not okay. For the most part. There are *some* exceptions, but generally it is frowned upon within ALL communities. Recasting is the process of creating a mold of a piece and creating casts of that piece. The reason this is frowned upon is because THIS IS OURTIGHT THEFT. In recasting the work of an independent artist, you’re taking the work an artist has put into their piece, their skill, their money and everything that went into it. Not only is this stealing the work of an independent artist, but recasted pieces are generally smaller and have lesser quality to them. On the opposite end of that spectrum, recasting mass produced pieces comes with its own series of issues as well. Mainly, the pieces being mass produced means that there’s some company that owns the image of whatever the piece may be. If you are caught, this could result in a Cease and Desist notice (which is a nice way of the respective Trademark Holders saying: “Hey, how about you don’t do that,”) or a possible lawsuit. 

Sometimes, it is given an OK, but these always fall under certain circumstances. Firstly, the Company or Trademark Holders are no longer in business, in which case, the pieces were probably sold off to another company. Second, the piece has been discontinued. Third, which may fall in line with the second, whoever owns the piece simply does not care. Either way, track down the rightful Trademark Holders first. AND DO NOT RECAST UNLESS YOU GET AN OKAY FIRST. “It’s easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission” is stupid advice and you should never follow it. Also, don’t try to be slick. People who are passionate about the community are obsessive (not an insult), and there’s always someone out there who’ll notice. No matter how well you try to cover your tracks, eventually, you WILL be caught. 

I hope that clears some things up for anyone who was curious about what recasting, rehauling and converting is. If you have questions about any piece, there’s no shame in asking someone who’s been in the community for a long time for their opinion. Call me biased, but I think we’re a good bunch. But, support your passions, the arts, small businesses and have fun collecting, rehauling, converting and making good art... without recasting. 

#mask collector #mask making #art #cosplay #costuming #film #indie film #indie artist #mask rehaul #mask conversion #mask recasting #art ethics #legalities #fair use

[businesslawyersinvietnam]

Opposition Procedures of Trademark in Vietnam

Trademark is the priceless asset of a company because of being used to distinguish goods or services of different organizations or individuals. Many international companies have found that others have registered trademark protection in Vietnam at National Offices of Intellectual Property (NOIP).

Because trademark is protected independently in each nation, it is easy for violators to abuse trademarks of other well-known companies for their interests in Vietnam. This could potentially put the real trademark owner’s under challenges when the clients or customers realize the product bearing the trademark they trust do not meet the standard they expected.

                        Opposition Procedures of Trademark in Vietnam

In Vietnam, after detecting their infringement registration process, you should submit an opposition notice to NOIP in Vietnam to prevent the violating trademark registration. To ensure your opposition shall be effective, you should enclose evidences and related documents.

With highly professional staff and great experience in IP aspect in Vietnam, ANT Lawyers, a qualified attorney and registered IP agent, could support you in opposition procedure of trademark in Vietnam.

Deadline for filing an opposition to a trademark application in Vietnam

The deadline for filing an opposition to a trademark application in Vietnam is stipulated particularly in the IP Law.

According to IP Law of Vietnam, during examination of trademark applications as from the date when a trademark application is published on the Industrial Property Official Gazette until prior to the date of decision on granting Certificate of trademark registration, an opposition request should be filed to the NOIP. Such request will not be accepted by the NOIP for handling if it is filed after the date of decision on granting trademark registration. However, under our current practice, the applicant could request for an acceleration examination, shorter than provided period of 09 months. Therefore please be noted that possible opposition should be filed as soon as possible.

Requirements

Pursuant to the IP Law, foreign opponents are not allowed to file opposition request directly at the NOIP but must authorize a lawful IP representative in Vietnam to proceed with such action based on a required original Power of Attorney (POA). Under current practice in Vietnam, a copy of POA may be acceptable for filing opposition and the original one could be filed later. However, the NOIP will not consider the opposition until the original POA is filed and all formality requirements are satisfied.

Trademark opposition Procedure in Vietnam

The opposition request must be in written form and the source of its accompanied supporting materials (if any) must be specified.

A possible opposition will be considered at the time of the trademark application’s examination as to substance.

As a general procedures, within 01 month (in fact, the time can extend to 02-04 months) as from the receiving date of our opposition, the NOIP will consider and then may convey its contents to the Applicant and fix about 01 month for them to present opinions. After receiving response of the Applicant (if they submit), the NOIP will inform and give the Opponent 01 month for filing response, submission of opinions.

In some cases, the NOIP may give conclusion upon consideration of opposition without conveying its contents to the Applicant if they think that it is clear enough to conclude. It is possible for the NOIP to organize conversation between the Opponent and the Applicant, upon request of the two parties, to clarify the matter (if necessary).

Upon considering the evidences submitted by the two parties, the NOIP will make a decision to accept opposition or not.

If you are looking for an experienced IP services in Vietnam to help you with your IP application, you should visit ANTLawyers.vn. Our attorneys have experience with the IP process and will work closely with you as you apply for your IP.

Source ANTLawyers: https://antlawyers.vn/legal-service/opposition-procedures-of-trademark-in-vietnam.html

#IP services in Vietnam #Trademark attorneys #Trademark in Vietnam