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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Dreams, Chapter 7

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 7

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4184

Summary: Life moves toward normalcy for Sam and the reader, regardless of emotional turmoil.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

A few days later the Kaisers came into the bar for a nightcap and asked you and Sam to come to their house for dinner. You couldn’t think of a reason not to, and honestly thought maybe it would be nice to have something to structure the week around. It had been quiet, just barely beneath solemn while the dust settled and Sam stayed mostly silent while you moved around each other throughout the day. At least at the Kaisers’ Sam would have to talk to you, maybe even sidle up close to you during waking hours to keep up the couples’ charade. A little zap of guilt moved through you as you politely agreed to a time, that the second thought you’d had was about getting closer to Sam under this guise. In any case, the Kaisers were kind, it wouldn’t hurt to have a nice meal with someone else, and if you were going to stay here, it would be a good idea to avoid appearing standoffish. You bought their last drink and were waving after them when Sam came upstairs from changing a keg.

“We’re going to the Kaisers’ for dinner tomorrow,” you offered, trying to keep your voice even and making a point of not staring at Sam too long. It was a challenge; since Sam had kissed you and even more since he’d divulged that longing was part of the tangle of emotions he was feeling, it was on your mind nearly constantly, adding a murky stripe to the ever-present grief.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Sam jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t know what to do with them. “What time?”

“They said 7:30. Don’t let me forget; I think we should bring a bottle of wine or something, so I can grab one tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that works.”

You wanted to drag out the conversation but couldn’t think of any way to that wasn’t cloying or desperate. If this (hopefully temporary) emotional distance was what Sam needed, it was unfair for you to try to take it from him. A quick nod and you returned to washing glasses.

The rest of the shift passed agonizingly slowly. Sam put on a podcast about Jonestown for the drive home.

You’d decided to walk over to the Kaisers’ with Sam the next day, bundled up on top of a presentable sweater that you hadn’t worn in a few years. Biting wind sliced through your jeans and seemed to creep into your coat even as you dug your chin inside the collar like a turtle, and when Sam noticed he threw an arm around you. His side blocked a bit of the wind and he rubbed your shoulder to warm it with friction. The impulse to curl up into his ribs was fierce, but you fought it down to wrap your forearms around the bottle of red wine that looked the fanciest of the midrange bottles at the grocery store. Where seconds before you had been wishing the walk were shorter, now you could’ve stayed out in the ice forever if it meant Sam would allow himself to be close to you again without being asleep. You’d made peace with the want, trying hard to decide that feeling crazy on top of your grief wasn’t helping anyone.

“Ready?” Sam asked with a tentative smile at the doorway. The Kaisers lived in a version of your cabin, in the sense that many of the houses in the area were log-hewn and rustic. However, they were clearly here to stay. Window flowerbeds filled with pinecones for the season and delicately carved shutters framed warm casts of light streaming onto the snow through gauzy ivory curtains, and their door opened to a tiny front porch where yours simply had a small ungraceful cement platform. For a moment, you thought about how comforting it would be to come back here at the end of a shift. It didn’t feel like somewhere as darling as this could have a half-broken boiler that rattled all day or plastic-coated countertops. This was a home and not a hideout.

You gave Sam what you hoped was a reassuring grin and watched as his long finger pressed an old-fashioned doorbell encased in wrought iron.

Mike answered the door. He had on a fuzzy pullover that made him look even more like a teddy bear than he normally did, nubbly wool spanning his belly like fur. He had the kind of rosy full-cheeked smile some jolly men combined with their booming voices to seem like the Ghost of Christmas Present, and a well-groomed beard with two starkly delineated streaks of gray-white dropping straight down from the corners of his mouth. From previous neighborly hugs, you knew he smelled like piney aftershave. He was a little taller than average, and built former-linebacker solid. You would’ve bet anything he was the perfect dad to call to help move you into a college apartment or scare an ex-boyfriend, and the thought of it made you cheerful and sad all at once. The hand not holding the doorknob had a pint of dark beer. “Great, you’re here! Babs, they’re here,” he added over his shoulder, gesturing an arm to welcome you into the home.

Sam waited for you to go first, shuffling his feet along the doormat in tandem with you as Mike closed the door. You followed Mike’s socked initiative and gently toed your boots off while you handed him the bottle of wine somewhat shyly. For all the years you’d been on your own, there was something so decidedly adult about bringing wine over to the dinner party of a middle-aged couple that felt like those first few meetings of your parents’ friends after college, when you’re not sure whether to call them by their first names or resign yourself to a life of Mr This and Mrs That. Mike seemed to pick up on it, thoughtfully appraising the bottle and squeezing your shoulder, humming about how you didn’t have to bring anything. He clapped Sam on the back and asked him how he was doing before teasing gently about how long his hair had gotten, and you took in the house.

It was bigger than the cabin you were staying in, the staircase to your left suggesting an upstairs that yours didn’t have, but what was far more striking was how warm it felt both in mood and literal temperature. A fire crackled straight through the main room in front of you, surrounded by giant river rock stonework that offset caramelly beige walls. A deep, plush canvas sofa faced the fireplace, flanked by two equally overstuffed armchairs upholstered with burnt sienna stained leather. Quick visual survey gave you a count of 4 throws in the room of various weights and patterns.

The kitchen was over to the right through the dining room. Barbie was wearing an apron covered in piglets and appeared to be basting something in the oven, turning toward you and absentmindedly wiping her hands. Fluffy, soft-looking hair was held back from her face with a pair of no-nonsense tortoiseshell barrettes. “Oh, perfect! I thought I hadn’t left enough time for the roast, but it looks about done. Can I get you two a drink?”

Sam’s soft, encouraging smile was enough to make you feel a little weak in the knees. “Sure! It smells great in here.”

“How about an old fashioned? We’ve been working through a great bottle of bourbon.”

“Works for me,” Sam agreed, and you nodded as well.

A few moments of small talk later, Sam offered to help Barbie with the food. She graciously accepted, giving him some job you knew she could’ve easily done herself as a way to make him feel more comfortable. Mike noticed you looking at the variety of pictures on the wall and started talking about their kids, putting names to each cheerful face. They were a good-looking family, the Kaisers, all big beaming smiles and limbs protectively wrapped around each other over the course of different seasons and major events. You’d had to let go of this idea years ago, long before Dean was gone, but it still made you ache in a nondescript way to see a family so happy and so each others’, not only in the way they loved but also in the way they so obviously belonged. Mike and Barbie were good people, and they deserved this. You tried to focus on the affection in Mike’s face as he talked, asking a few clarifying questions as he went. A few moments later, Sam came up behind you.

“Barbie says we should go sit down.” There was a pinkness to his cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of the kitchen or residual windburn from your walk over.

The table was one of those single-plank, live-edged ones you’d always coveted and knew were far more expensive than they looked. It fit the elevated rustic feel of the Kaisers’ house and the delicious, rib-sticking meal you were eating off of it. As you fawned over the roast and Barbie did the requisite Midwestern dance of ‘oh it’s nothing I’ll give you the recipe’ it was easy to fantasize about belonging somewhere like this, having parents like this, pictures of your cousins and nieces and nephews lining the walls of your childhood home. Indulgent, clearly, even more so than the rich food and smooth liquor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it.

“So, have you two always worked in the bar industry? That always seemed so fun to me—but I’m too old to do anything like that now,” Barbie asked.

“Oh, come on, you’d be a great bartender,” Sam insisted, always coming down on the exact right spot between flattering and politely flirtatious. “But uh, no. This is the first bar I’ve worked in for more than a few weeks, actually.”

Mike raised his eyebrows in an indication to continue but Sam artfully avoided his gaze. You couldn’t tell what the cue was—how honest was Sam planning on being? An old classic, the technically-true, seemed like the best option. “I worked as a bartender through and a little bit after college.”

“Silly me, I guess I had always thought that’s how you two had met; you seem like such a good team there! How did you meet, then?”

You artfully popped an entire fingerling potato in your mouth to force Sam to take over. “Uh, our, ah, families were friends.” In the sense that Bobby had been like an uncle to you both, maybe. A complete non-answer that sort of encompassed the barebones of the situation if you squinted at it right, but neither Mike nor Barbie seemed to recognize the opacity of it.

“That’s great. I bet your parents were excited then, seeing you get together,” Mike suggested before taking a sip of bourbon. Both you and Sam smiled affirmatively—not together, many of those parents long dead before we had even met—and hoped the moment would pass. “How long has it been, then? Since you got together?”

That one you couldn’t even guess what the right pretend answer would be and prepared to joke ‘too long’ before Sam said, “About two years. We knew each other for a long time before that, though.” It made sense, as far as answers went. ‘About two years’ since Dean was gone, since your lives changed, but it still ripped through you like an electric shock and sent you reeling. You could have spent an hour looking at that statement from every angle but snapped out of it when Barbie gave you a basket of rolls to pass to Mike.

“So that explains why she doesn’t have a ring,” Mike winked, playfully knocking Sam’s arm with his fork still in his hand. “Two years isn’t that long.”

Two years is a lifetime. Sam blushed and looked down at his plate. “Be nice. Kids don’t get married at 20 like they used to,” Barbie teased from across the table, smirking at her husband with so much love behind her eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would’ve looked at Dean like that across some dining room table if things had been different and your mind flashed on the kitchen counter a few nights before, silently clinking rocks glasses together over pie and wanting to hold Sam until the world got more fair.

The plates were cleared and an amazing, sticky bread pudding was brought out. Mike and Barbie coaxed each other into telling stories that made you genuinely belly laugh until finally you couldn’t suppress a tiny yawn and the final drink was poured with a joke about how it wasn’t like you were driving home, so what was the harm? You all moved to the living room in front of the fire, sitting next to Sam on the couch when Mike and Barbie took what must’ve been their normal spots in each armchair. Old cushions folded up around you comfortingly and rolled you slightly into Sam’s weight next to you, lining up the firm stretch of his thigh along yours. Warmth from the fire and Sam, the pleasant sounds of your hosts’ voices and Sam’s answers to them rumbling through you as vibrations when he spoke were so sweet and heavy under the bourbon, and your eyelids began to droop.

Sam’s hand gently covered your knee. “Ready to go?” he asked, low with a private smirk.

You made a conscious effort to sit up straight. “I’m so sorry, I can barely keep my eyes open! Where are my manners?”

Mike laughed a big belly laugh from his armchair. “Babs, we’re outlasting the bartenders!”

Everyone chuckled as you all got up from your chairs, Sam accepting a Tupperware of leftovers before the at-the-doorway conversation of people who didn’t want to go and hosts who didn’t want them to either. You’d been so nervous about the dinner and now you didn’t want to leave, honestly hadn’t really wanted to leave the sofa, just doze against Sam in the heat and company like a child. It had seemed before like maybe Mike and Barbie were just asking you for dinner because it was the thing to do, but they had been genuinely welcoming and you realized that these were the first non-hunter or hunting-related relationships you had made in literal years as you zipped your coat up all the way to the top and followed Sam outside into the quiet night.

“Man, they are really nice,” he remarked, walking closely enough next to you that your sleeves brushed together.

You could barely see his face when you looked up to him. “Yeah. We should have them over sometime.”

“Our place looks like a flop house.”

You giggled, the sound falling softly on the snow around you. “We can fix it up first.”

“No real point in fixing it up if we’re not staying here for a long time.”

“Maybe we could stay a while.”

Sam looked down at you, slowing to a stop even as the icy wind whipped around you. “You want to stay?”

“I mean, I—yeah, I think I do. Unless you think we should go somewhere else.”

“No, I just…I guess I hadn’t really considered it here, the whole “roots” thing.”

“It’s fucking freezing, can we talk at the cabin?”

Sam’s laugh rang out across the woodsy surroundings as he clapped an arm around you and shuffled you both home.

That night you tucked your cold toes between Sam’s flannel-clad legs and tried to imagine Dean as an old man.

If you’d thought December and January were bad, the intense cold snap of February sent you for a loop. Something about the months of darkness and frozen fingers was making you more stir crazy than normal; the idea of coming home to the cabin seeming less and less enticing as the days went on.

And then the boiler broke.

Well and truly broke, not just making the horrible clanging sounds it was prone to, but no heat at all. It had only been a couple weeks since going to dinner at the Kaisers’ and the experimental conversation with Sam about investing time into the cabin which had since fizzled out. A lack of heat at the border of the Upper Peninsula in winter was obviously untenable, and it forced the topic again as you grumpily helped carry in the remnants of another dead tree Sam had felled to heat the home with firewood.

“Is it worth fixing or is this a sign?” you huffed through the tiny clouds of steam coming out of your mouth. “How much would it cost?”

“I don’t have a ton of experience with boilers, but I’m pretty sure it’s the heat exchanger. And I have no idea how much it would cost to fix, but I can try to do it myself if the parts aren’t too much.” Pragmatic, genius Sam with the patience for machinery that you didn’t have. He snaked a long arm out from the bundle of wood he was carrying to open the door and hold it for you to scurry under his arm before closing it after both of you.

Generally, you thought a landlord would probably fix this kind of thing but it always felt a little scary asking him for anything, knowing you paid cash every month and the owner had never asked for a background check. It could have been fine, but every potential conflict seemed like it might be an opportunity to be unceremoniously evicted. Better to either leave before it could happen or solve the problem yourselves. You put a hand on Sam’s chest before he could go back for another bundle of wood. “Let’s talk about it for a second.”

Sam put his hands on his hips and it accentuated the broad span of his shoulders in his thick jacket. “Okay, right. What do you think?”

“Well, I mean, do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go somewhere else, or start moving again or something? We haven’t even really talked about it.”

He seemed to be weighing the options before biting his lip. “Here seems as good a place as any in a lot of ways, you know? Off the beaten path, probably not going to get spotted by anyone we know—knew—and the money is honest.”

You cut him off with a flippant wave of the hand. “Right, but I’m not talking strategically. Do you want to stay here? Do you like it here?”

A moment of silence fell as you searched his face for clues. “I—yeah, I do. I like being in the woods, I like the bar, I like people like the Kaisers and Steve and Jake. Maybe I’ll feel differently in the summer but right now I do.”

The grin cracked open your face slowly. “Good. I like it here too. Do you think the hardware store would have the stuff you need to fix it?”

“Definitely the first place I would check.”

After getting the rest of the wood inside and leaving it next to the small fire already burning to dry out, you started to follow Sam to the car before he turned around a step before the door. “Where are you going?” he asked as you almost bumped into him.

“Hardware store, I thought?”

“Nice try, we can’t both leave with a fire going.”

��Oh, I get it. So you get to go sit in the warm car and hang out in the warm hardware store while I turn into a popsicle over here.” You were half-joking, but it was genuinely freezing in the cabin, even with the fire going. Sam rolled his eyes over a smirk and strode around you, pushing the couch tight to the fireplace before retrieving the down comforter from the bed and throwing it on top. He grabbed a rinsed plastic bottle from the top of the recycling bin and filled it with water hot from the tap before throwing it in the microwave for a second.

“Unless you feel like learning a lot about boilers today, then yes.” He gingerly pulled the bottle out of the microwave and tightened the cap back on, deftly shifting it between hands before tossing it under the comforter on the sofa.

You were having a hard time holding onto your anger as you watched him make a cup of peppermint tea, still wearing his boots and coat as he moved around the tiny kitchen. Reluctantly, you shuffled over to the couch and removed only your boots and gloves before getting under the blankets, tucking your socked feet around the poor man’s hot water bottle and finally smiling only when Sam brought over the steaming mug of tea with more than a touch of affection under the exasperation coloring his face. “Fine?”

“Fine.”

When he came back, you were well into a worn paperback and had put two more logs on the fire already. “Do you need help?” you called over your shoulder from within the comforter cocoon.

“I think I’ve got it, thanks.” His words came into the room on a gust of cold air while he tapped snow off of his boots.

“Think you know what you’re doing?”

“Actually, yeah. The woman at the hardware store—you’d recognize her, Diane I think—knew a fair amount about it. I’m pretty sure I have it under control.” He brought a paper bag weighted with supplies over to the utility closet you knew held the boiler and got to work.

It was nice watching Sam in this element, always had been. As much as Dean had loved doing little projects and fixing things, both Winchesters were far handier than your average bear and Sam’s natural interest in learning lent itself well to tinkering with all kinds of things. Evidently boilers were not an exception. He shucked his coat off to lie flat on his back, looking up at something you couldn’t see with his hands gently resting on his ribcage before reaching to grab a wrench. The twisting motion raised his elbow and tugged his shirt a bit up his torso to reveal a few inches of Sam’s lower abdomen, the trail of hair tracing to his belt buckle in slightly sharper contrast to the taught skin around it given the consecutive months spent without sun. It made you blush and you quickly looked back to your book, grateful for the heat that the fireplace was bringing to your cheeks as cover.

About forty minutes later, Sam tapped your shoulder and startled you out of the goofy historical fiction of the paperback. “Wanna see if it works?”

He had a stripe of oil or something on his cheek but you resisted the impulse to swipe it off, instead nodding and extricating yourself from the heat of the blanket and couch around you. When you turned it on, the boiler clicked loudly twice in a way you thought might be a bad omen before going silent again. You let an extended beat pass and placed a palm on the side. It was already on the edge of being too hot to touch and you momentarily forgot that you and Sam had decidedly not been continuing your new normal level of comforting affection lately before throwing your arms up high around his neck excitedly. He chuckled into your ear and closed the embrace, forearms crossing your ribcage and hoisting you off the ground as he stood up in your hug. You could feel the fingers of one hand splayed out over your back and side through your jacket, the other still holding the wrench tightly.

“Okay, no promises it’s going to last, but I think that was it,” Sam offered as you released each other.

“Crank it! I want it to feel like the Caribbean in here.”

“You say that now, and in 3 hours you’re going to be whining about how hot you are,” Sam grinned, clearly feeling a little proud of himself even if he wouldn’t admit it. He tapped the wrench absentmindedly against his palm for a moment, considering whether he wanted to say something. “When I was at the hardware store she said our landlord might be open to cutting our rent if we offered to fix up the place.”

“Who’s we?” you teased, holding your frozen fingers close to the boiler like it was a campfire.

“I thought you might say that. But seriously, I know you don’t like the color of the walls or the shower pressure or whatever, could make it feel a little less…sterile.”

You tried not to remember that the last time you’d picked out paint was for a bright pink bedroom at age 12. Sam was right, it could be nice. Even more than that, it would be great to have some leftover cash around, and an extra project to kill a few hours of daylight wasn’t a bad idea.

“I kind of like the sound of that. I’ll talk to him about whether he’d be game.” Sam squeezed your shoulder before massaging your neck, admiring the boiler distractedly when you continued. “And seriously, thank you for fixing it.”

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 8

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poirott · 3 years

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This is the 2nd part of the "Riddle of the Spinx" interview with Death on the Nile cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos for British Cinematographer November 2020 issue (part 1 transcribed here). The full interview has now been released on the British Cinematographer website. I've included some of the text below!

In Part 2 Zambarloukos talks about shooting with the cast on location in Egypt and doing a particularly complex single shot of them on set, how they did the opening b&w sequence of young Poirot as a soldier, and built sets of Abu Simbel and the pyramids, the use of realtime footage projected on LED screens to make the studio sets look more realistic, what part of the Murder on the Orient Express set they recycled for Nile, etc.

Q: This was shot like Murder on the Orient Express at Longcross Studios with plates filmed on location in Egypt. Was it ever a possibility to shoot entirely on location?

Haris Zambarloukos: The issue is that 1934 Egypt barely exists today. For example, in the 1960s they moved the Abu Simbel temple 300 metres away so that the Aswan Dam wouldn't flood it. So, we built the entire four-storey high Abu Simbel at Longcross, complete with banks of water. The same with Giza and the Sphinx. In the 1930s the Nile went up to the feet of the Sphinx. Now all you see is the concrete expanse of Cairo.

Secondly, it's difficult to shoot complex shoots on a river while floating, taking all the cast down there and scheduling them, on top of ensuring everyone's safety on such a high-profile project.

Our whole design and research went into creating a set. We wanted to build a life-size boat inside and out; not to break it down into small sets but to shoot it as if we were on a boat. That’s a huge undertaking. Jim Clay built an amazing set to scale for the Karnak. It was so big we needed to build a temporary sound stage around it. We also wanted to use some real daylight when we got great sunlight in Longcross and use a little bit of water to basically film the boats carrying guests to the Karnak.

We recycled the railway from Orient and built the boat on that so we could wheel it in from outdoors to indoors. We built a very elaborate lighting rig that you could pull back and see the entire boat in one shot. You could step onto the boat and walk through all the rooms which were all lit for an analogue film f-stop. It was complicated and took most of our planning but I personally don't think you can tell the difference when we cut - even from a shot filmed outside in real sunlight juxtaposed with one in apparent sunlight on our sound stage. It's seamless because we took such great care and a detailed approach to our rig and construction.

In Orient you created some stylish direct overheads of the train carriage. You've told us of the Steadicam dance sequence in Nile. Were there other stylistic flourishes?

Inside the sound stage we went twice round the Karnak with the entire cast all choreographed for this one great reveal of a murder. It was really hard work to do. I understand why it was cut in the edit although they have kept a lot of other single long takes and there are lots of places where you see the whole cast in a single shot.

However difficult you might think setting up a long single is in terms of lighting and operating, it is equally, if not more difficult, to block a scene with multiple actors, keep the audience engaged and choreograph it in a way that is exciting and at the same time reveals things gradually. There's a lot of pressure on a lot of people in shots like that. Everyone's got to be on top of their game. Because we're all so interdependent, it's a domino effect in that the further you go in the take, the bigger the responsibility is for not getting it wrong whether that's the operator, focus puller, the actor saying the final line, the gaffer lighting a corner at just the right time. We always get excited about those shots but also very nervous.

You augmented the studio work with plates photographed on location in Egypt. Tell us about that.

We filmed on the Nile from a boat with a 14 8K Red camera array. We had a 360-degree bubble on top of the boat and two three-camera arrays pointing forwards and backwards as we travelled up and down. We specifically chose areas where modernity wasn’t present (or where it was, we removed it in post) and we also shot plates from the point of view of passengers onboard the Karnak.

VFX supervisor George Murphy edited the footage and stitched the plates together into an essentially very, very advanced virtual reality rig in which I could pan my camera. We did that before principal photography, so we never had to guess a month or so later what to put there. That’s a big help. Most shoots do their plate photography afterwards. It meant I could pretty much place the camera on any deck of the Karnak for any scene and know what the background would be.

As with Orient, did you play back footage realtime on LED screens outside the boat set?

I'd love to have done it live but on Orient we were only dealing with one wagon's windows at a time. It was still the biggest LED set-up ever done to that point, but the Karnak set is 20 time bigger than that. There aren't enough LED screens available – plus it would have been prohibitively expensive.

Instead, I went for a much larger version of a technique I'd used on Mamma Mia which was to hang back projection screens all around the boat – 200m in circumference, 15m high. We used Arri SkyPanels at a distance to create a sky or a part of the background. It could also be converted into a blue screen when we needed to. It meant that if I had a shot looking above the horizon line into the sky then it could be done in camera.

How confident were you of retaining colour and contrast from set to post?

I took stills on the recce and we used those to the create colours with this back projection for our skies. I take prints (not digital stills) so there is no misinterpretation. A still is a piece of paper that you can see. Once something is emailed across and seen by someone watching on another screen the information can get lost.

At the same time there were a lot more checks and balances put in place. We had a projector at Longcross and I watched dailies with (dailies colourist) Sam Spurgeon every lunchtime. With Kodak and Digital Orchard we have a very quick process to convert analogue filmmaking into digital by the next morning. Film is processed at night, they scan at 4am and by mid-morning those digital images are transferred to our dailies suite at Longcross. At lunch we’d watch it digitally projected, having been processed, scanned and graded at 2K.

I check that first and give notes to Sam and those get transferred onto our dailies which is what Ken, the editorial team, VFX and studio team sees. That's a major check. It's me with someone in a room, rather than me talking over the phone which is a big difference. I have a very good relationship with Goldcrest and (DI colourist) Rob Pizzey who also sees things along the way. I supervise the grade at the end. So, there's no need for anyone to interpret anything. It’s a collaboration in which we all look at the same images.

Did you shoot black and white for the opening scene or convert?

We shot colour for a couple of reasons. Although Kodak could manufacture BW 65, there is no lab in the world to processes it. Plus, there’s a certain skill to grading BW using colour negative and the added benefits are that that you can place a grey tone to a colour. For example, you could take red and decide it will look a very dark grey or a light grey, so you get very detailed tones. Ultimately, I get much more control in the DI this way. They were very monochromatic battlefield sets and costumes so it was quite limited in this case. The Germans wore grey and the Belgians wore dark blue and it’s a dark sooty gas-filled battlefield but you could manipulate the blue in the sky a little bit more and certainly manipulate the intensity of people’s eyes - especially if they had blue eyes (which Branagh does).

How did you handle sound sync?

To do sound sync work on Orient we used sound cameras that are twice as heavy as high-speed cameras, so I wanted to develop soundproof housing (blimp) for our camera on Nile. I took the problem to Stuart Heath at BGI Supplies at Longcross. They've made all sorts of props for us before, from Cinderella’s carriage to the furniture on Nile. I told him that I needed it really quickly. All my other attempts had failed. Stuart suggested using a material that they soundproof the interior of helicopters with. He brought a draper in who basically measured the camera as if making a dinner suit for it and quickly made a couple of versions for us. It was very effective and really opened up the Steadicam possibility for us. All from just wandering onto a workshop on the lot and asking a friend if he had any ideas about how to achieve something. In the old days that’s what everyone did – the answer was somewhere on the lot.

Finally, after six films and 14 years working with Ken Branagh, could you tell us what makes your relationship tick?

It is a fantastic friendship. To begin with you must be able to maintain a professional friendship with any cast and crew which is all about doing your very best and understanding where you have common aesthetics and shared thoughts about humanity. Ask what kind of world you want this to be, because that will come through in your filmmaking.

As you say, I've spent years working in close proximity to Ken and we have a mutual affection and admiration for each other otherwise we wouldn't be doing it for so long. He is relentless in pursuit of perfection and in his advancement of storytelling and is inspiring to work with. It means you have to be as relentless in your area of craft.

I think we both like making the same kinds of films. I'm a Greek Cypriot who grew up with Greek myth and tragedy. Ken's love of Shakespeare is legendary. You can easily see the lineage between Aeschylus (the ancient Greek creator of tragedy) that goes all the way to Shakespeare. Perhaps that appreciation for the human condition in its best and worst forms is the tie that binds.

Photo credit: Rob Youngson

Source: britishcinematographer.co.uk - February 4 2021

#death on the nile #agatha christie #poirot #hercule poirot #kenneth branagh #been waiting for them to release the rest of the interview! \o/#it goes into a lot more detail than the average article #great interview for fans of behind the scenes stuff #ken's brilliance strikes again :)#i'm fascinated by the 'going twice around the karnak' single shot #sounds like the 'figure 8' shot in MOTOE but even more complex #and they fragmented it?#and the LED screen tech is much larger this time #OMG poirot in dark blue belgian army uniform <3 #hope they release some promo pics of it so we can see it in color #the overhead pic of poirot on set has circular camera tracks around him #it's gonna be an awesome shot i'm sure

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stevebillyrecs · 4 years

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Not-So-Fluffy Holiday Season Recs

Ho-ho-ho, it’s that time of the year again! Where we all drown in thoughtful gifts, family bonding, and mistletoe kisses! If you’re looking for something other than just pure fluff (like me) but still want to get your holiday season fix, this is the rec list for you. That’s not to say that there won’t be any fluff, just that it’s not the sole focus of the story!

Included: Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Year’s Eve fics containing family drama, smut, heavy plot, or just some good ol’ angsty pining. Also, still a whole lot of fluff in between the non-fluff. Not included: Fics about any other, especially non-Christian holidays… because I couldn’t find a single one. Sad!

24 fics under the cut!

mistletoe and other holiday propaganda by brawlite / @brawlite & ToAStranger / @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (54k, E)

Everybody wants something for Christmas. It just so happens that the only way for everyone to get what they want is for Billy and Steve to pretend to be dating over Christmas break. It’s really the only option.

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out by eternalgoldfish / @eternalgoldfish (3k, T)

Steve moves to Indianapolis to avoid Hawkins, but Billy doesn’t get the memo. Now it’s Christmas, they’re snowed in at work, and Steve is giving up on holidays. Merry Christmas, I could care less.

been crawling series by kate_button / @un-buttoned (8k, E)

The crop top was right there on the main aisle in the women’s section. Steve’s not entirely sure, like, why it exists, but he’s not disappointed about it. The rest of it came together pretty quickly (and cheaply) after that. So anyway, that’s how he finds himself drinking jungle juice out of a red solo cup looking like the twenty-two-year-old-man version of Karen Smith, animal ears and too much skin, bada boom, costume. I’m a dog. Duh.

You Get the Mistletoe and I’ll Be Your Santa, Baby by LazyBaker / @granpappy-winchester (2k, G)

Steve’s looking at him and Billy’s wearing Steve’s itchy and warm handmade I love you sweater, looking right back. They’re sharing a blanket.

nothing is finite (in the evening light) by Philosoferre / @babyhargrove (22k, T)

“It’d be convenient,” Billy adds. He’s looking at Steve expectantly, but he’s still a little guarded. “And, uh. Road trips, you know. They’re supposed to be fun and shit. Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is, Harrington.” Steve finds himself smiling; he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Billy narrows his eyes curiously. "Sure,” Steve says. Or, Steve and Billy go on a road trip to Hawkins for Christmas break. Both of them might be very much in love.

If You Kissed Me Now by socknonny / @socknonny (1k, T)

When Steve kisses Jonathan under the mistletoe at the Byers’ Christmas party, it’s only for a joke. But for some reason, it sets Billy off, and Steve won’t leave him alone until he understands why.

Christmas in the Benz by flippyspoon / @flippyspoon (6k, E)

Steve escapes a crappy Harrington Christmas only to find another crappy Christmas refugee.

Under the Moon by ImNeitherNor / @imneithernor (3k, T)

“Hargrove?” The voice yanks Billy back into the present and he stands up fast enough to make himself dizzy. He blinks twice, shifts his boots in the snow, and looks over to where the voice had floated from. Standing in his Members Only jacket with that fucking bat over his shoulder, Steve looks at him like he’s seen a ghost. Billy clenches his fists and notices how Steve’s eyes trail to the blood on his mouth, the blossoming color on his cheek. “You’re bleeding,” Steve points out, like Billy doesn’t know that. “Really fucking observant, Harrington,” Billy curls his lip up and flicks his tongue out, over the split, and Steve’s eyes follow it like they always do. It’s a visceral thrill up his spine but anger eats it up. Steve is off limits and, as much as Billy wants to lick into his mouth and feel those lean muscles against his own, he isn’t stupid.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas by r0nj4 / @a-station-on-your-way (1k, M)

Steve buys a Christmas present and has mixed feelings about it.

well damn, billy, i can't control the weather by obsceme / @hartigays (7k, T)

narrator: and there was only one bed all of us, collectively: (gasps) and there was only one bed

Last Christmas by shocked_into_shame / @bornwithoutsin (2k, E)

It’s Billy and Steve’s first Christmas together, and Steve will not stop singing that fucking Wham song. Billy doesn’t mind, though, because Steve agrees to make it up to him.

Thankful For by ChrisLeon / @vgorodye (8k, NR)

The ad read: ‘No one to bring home for the holidays? Looking to piss off your parents? I’m your guy. 22 y.o. ex-con, never graduated high school, proud owner of a Camaro one year younger than I am. I can play anywhere from 18 to 29 depending on if I shave or not. Currently working as a line cook and late nights at a bar. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m down.’ Steve knew it was bad idea. He clicked on it anyway.

Five Days (To Midnight) by Blink_Blue / @winters-blue-children (7k, E)

It's been months since Steve left Hawkins and walked out of Billy's life. He's back for the holidays and Billy gets one last chance to make things right. They have five days together. Five days left of the year. Five days to cherish.

Time after Time by lemonlovely / @lemonlovely (10k, E)

“Really, Harrington. Stop avoiding the question. Tell me.” Those blue eyes flashed like an animal's in the dark depths of the Camaro. He repeated himself, enunciating like Steve was particularly slow. “Why. Would I have seen. Your wallet?” Steve glared down at Billy, feeling like they were caught in some kind of a staring contest that he hadn’t actually initiated, but also didn’t particularly want to lose either. Which seemed to happen a lot when he was around Billy – and that hadn’t been a lot for a few months. He’d been avoided like the plague, or maybe it was the other way around. Jesus Christ, apparently Billy was really gonna make him say it, as much as Steve didn't want to. He grit his teeth together. “Because.” Steve said. “I think I might have left it in…the backseat of your car. You know. That night. And I need it back.”

Deck the Fucking Halls by XxmerthurcatxX / @callmelilyshameless (700, T)

Billy hates Christmas but he loves Steve.

Mountain of Dreams by socknonny / @socknonny (1k, E)

Steve's drunk, and someone is singing.

Rivers 'Til I Reach You by tracy7307 / @tracy7307 (10k, E)

“I know lifting's a bad idea but I’m feeling.” Shame twisted up in Billy’s gut, and he toyed at his lasagna with his fork. “I don’t feel as. I don’t know. Confident.” His muscle mass was not as bulky as it used to be -- his abs and biceps just a shadow of what they once were. He had a soft little belly now. And then there were the scars. Dark pink floral patterns of scars all wound over his back, sides, and abdomen. Suddenly the thought of shirtless summer weather struck dread in his heart. For now, long-sleeved henleys and sweatshirts provided the perfect way for him to hide. It was literally the only time he’d been thankful for winter. “Hey,” Harrington said from across the table. He paused until Billy looked up to his eyes. His tone grew delicate and serious. “I’m not fucking around, okay? You. Look. Good.” And the way that Harrington looked at him -- brown eyes soft, his gaze lingering on Billy’s face. On his eyes. Well, maybe he meant it. “Yeah?” Billy asked. He felt his face heating. “You think so?” Harrington took the last bite of his lasagna. “Definitely.”

I Play Along with the Charade by moonflowers / @eatingmoonflowers (7k, T)

Billy'd been keeping an even closer eye on Harrington after that night at the Byers' - only natural, right? Thing is, watching and wondering never was enough for Billy.

in the wilderness life becomes by lymricks / @lymricks (3k, T)

Back in Hawkins for a winter break, Steve and Billy remember what it was like and learn about what it could be. Or, three old memories of Hawkins and one new one.

Bah Humbug, Billy Hargrove by LaVeraceVia / @laveracevia (14k, E)

“It’s okay, Billy. You’re not in any danger. No one can hear us,” Harrington says, and something about his tone—it’s not right. It’s too calm. Too…what? Certain. It’s too certain. Steve Harrington doesn’t talk like that. He means to say are you fucking high?, but what comes out instead is, “Who are you?” “Would you believe me if I said I was your guardian angel?”

merry christmas (i don’t want to fight tonight) by gothyringwald / @gothyringwald (1k, T)

Billy stands alone by the wall, beer in hand, a string of lights twinkling cheerfully above his head. Across the room Stacy Brent corners Steve under the mistletoe, pointing at it with one artfully manicured nail and smiling suggestively. His stomach turns and his blood heats. He chugs his beer, wipes his hand over the back of his mouth, jaw clenching as Stacy leans in.

Tell me, baby by socknonny / @socknonny (2k, M)

Steve finds Billy chopping down the worst tree in the entire Christmas Tree Farm.

A Love Thing by tracy7307 / @tracy7307 (2k, E)

Even five months after recovering from his injuries, Billy still has residual effects from the mindflayer. It's Christmas. Steve wants to help.

Happy Holidays From Your Least Favourite Homosexuals by bry0psida / @bry0psidawrites (1k, T)

Steve's family haven't had any contact with him since he came out as bi. He gets wind from Robin that he's being excluded from the family Christmas Card. Billy has the solution.

#harringrove #harringrove fics #harringrove fic recs #stranger things #reclist #trope:christmas #trope:thanksgiving #trope:newyears

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kumeko · 3 years

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Title: Corrin’s not-so-fun vacation

A/N: For the Fire Emblem Press Start Zine! I like making happy AUs where everyone can just live together.

…

Standing in front of the Residential Services, Corrin frowned. She was far too familiar with these large oak doors, with the rooms hidden within. In fact, she could count the number of times she’d visited this place in the past week with both her hands. Most people, she heard, only visited this place once a month at most.

“Is something wrong?” Azura asked, clutching her hands anxiously. Dressed in a blue-white sundress, she looked like the picture of island living. She even had a large, floppy hat.

She wished she could look just as carefree, but summer fun had to wait. Corrin sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Nothing, it’s just…” She eyed Azura again, taking in the healthy tan of her skin, the lack of worry lines on her face. For a woman who used to seem like she was on the brink of collapse, she looked like the epitome of life now. “You like it here, right?”

“Of course.” Azura smiled softly. She clutched the brim of her hat as she bashfully added, “I have to thank you for bringing me here. You were right, we really did need a vacation from…well…” Trailing off, Azura glanced at her helplessly. “You know.”

Oh, did she know. Corrin could only nod her agreement. There wasn’t an easy, quick way to bring up the war between Nohr and Hoshido, between the land of her birth and the land she was raised in. And that wasn’t including the heartbreak of fighting her siblings, the strangeness of her newfound powers, or any of the other things that occurred during her mission to bring peace.

The worst part, perhaps, was that it didn’t end with peace. No, even with her families leading their respective countries and Xander and Ryoma signing a treaty to end all conflict, there was still so much work to be done. Rebuilding took time and effort, whether it was property or relationships. It was taxing. For months, Corrin’s eyes looked like that of a raccoon’s. At some point, she just had to take a break from it all. Chuckling deprecatingly, Corrin smiled wearily. “Well, we wouldn’t be much help if we collapsed, right?”

“Certainly.” Azura tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, troubled. “Though I am not sure if it is a good idea to leave our countries for so long.”

“It’s fine.” Corrin reached out and squeezed Azura’s hands tightly. “Time passes slower here, remember? They won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“That…is true,” she admitted reluctantly.

Emboldened, Corrin continued, “It might just be a single day that’s passed. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“I hope so.” Azura giggled, a bell-like sound. She smiled appreciatively. “I have to say, though, Jakob managed to find the perfect Deep Realm. This world is quite idyllic.”

“I wonder just how many he went through to find this place.” Corrin scratched her cheek, considering her faithful butler. Honestly, sometimes she wondered if Jakob was even human—he could track her down anywhere, find whatever it was she needed, and was equally as capable in the castle as he was on the battlefield. “Though the inhabitants here are…strange.”

Azura glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot before agreeing. “I still cannot believe there are talking animals here. I am not sure what is odder, that the citizens here are all animals or that there are maybe one or two humans in existence.”

Corrin leaned closer, speaking in hushed tones. Even though she doubted anyone here had a weapon, let alone could wield it, she didn’t want to raise their ire. She had enough angry citizens to deal with at home. “It’s so weird. They sound like they’re saying gibberish, but it also makes perfect sense. And they just give away entire islands!”

Azura nodded as she leaned close too, her voice a low whisper. “They did just give you this entire island when we first arrived at that—what did they call it? Airport? Maybe they don’t have kings here?”

“But how do they function then?” Corrin raised a brow, unable to imagine it. Leo might know, or maybe Xander or Ryoma. Even with all the time she’d spent pouring over books, absorbing information of the outside world, Corrin had never once read of a place without royalty. “How do they run things?”

At a loss for words, Azura shrugged. Even that simple movement felt elegant from her. “Maybe they do not, and that is why they gave you this island. Though, they are fast builders despite this lack of oversight.”

“They are ridiculously fast, aren’t they?” Corrin glanced at the building they were about to enter. All she had to do was enter, request a change, and by the time she woke up an entire house had been built. Or moved (and somehow, without the occupant waking up). “I haven’t seen any magic here, though, so I don’t get how they do it.”

“Maybe the magic they use is undetectable by us,” Azura suggested, looking toward the beach where the airport was. “We did fly here, after all. And without any incantations or diagrams.”

Corrin stopped herself from replying. These were questions that neither of them could answer. There was no point in stressing out over this, that was the exact opposite of the reason they were here. Taking a deep breath, Corrin counted to five before letting go of Azura’s hands. “Alright, that’s enough of that. We’re just going to go in circles.”

“That might be the case,” Azura agreed, her hands falling to her sides as she also took a deep breath.

“We’re here to relax and have fun.” Corrin glanced at the door again, remembering just why she had made her nth journey to this building. “And you’re having fun, right?”

Azura nodded, giving the same answer she’d given earlier. “Of course. You have done an excellent job managing this island.”

“Okay, then if you’re having fun here, why is everyone else driving me crazy?” Corrin grumbled, opening the door. Inside was a large room, portioned into two main areas. A counter divided an office space manned by a giant tanuki and a golden dog. “I should have known better than to have everyone vacation at the same time.”

“What do you mean?” Stepping after her, Azura gave her an inquisitive look. “I thought everyone liked the island?”

“They do.” Despair dripped in her voice and Corrin rubbed her forehead as she walked over to the counter. “They just don’t like being together.”

Before Azura could press, the tanuki noticed them. Tom Nook, as he was called, got up from his desk and rushed over to them. In a strange, high-pitched voice, he asked, “What can I do for you today?”

No matter how many times she heard it, Corrin couldn’t shake the strange feeling she got when she heard the locals speak. Their voices sounded like Elise’s scribbles when she had been younger and learning to draw. Yet the words organized themselves perfectly in her head. Still, they could communicate, and that was all that mattered in the end. With a strained smile, Corrin admitted, “I need you to move two houses apart.”

“Again?” Incredulous, Tom stared at her. Awestruck, he pulled out a form. “You’re really reshaping the island! I wonder what it’ll look like now.”

“Who needs to move?” Azura asked, looking surprised as well.

“Xander and Ryoma.” Corrin sighed, slumping forward slightly as she remembered her older brothers’ arguments. They were the kings of two nations. They’d fought in a war, created peace, and were even drinking companions at night. Yet somehow, on this island, they had developed a fierce attachment to their houses. “They’re both trying to recreate Hoshido and Nohr in their homes, and—this is like the war all over again. Ryoma wants a bamboo fence, Xander wants a stone wall, and there isn’t room to have them both.”

“Oh.” Patting her shoulder sympathetically, Azura consoled, “I see what you meant now. Perhaps it would be better if they requested these changes themselves?”

“Unfortunately, we can only accept our leader’s requests,” Tom interrupted, an understanding smile on his face. “Though I am sure they are impressed by all of your hard work.”

“I hope so,” Corrin grumbled. Before Tom filled out paperwork, he pulled out a map. She leaned forward to study her brothers’ houses. It looked like the river blocked them one way, an orchard the second, the museum the third, and the town plaza the fourth. There wasn’t enough room to move them apart from each other, nor was there anywhere she could relocate one of them. “There’s nowhere to go.”

Tom studied the map before nodding sadly. “No, I’ m afraid there isn’t.”

“Drat.” Corrin pinched her nose but she was still here, staring at a useless map. “Alright, I’ll let them know then. I guess they’ll have to sort it out themselves.”

“I’m sure they can handle it,” Azura comforted, squeezing her shoulder now. “They managed a peace treaty, after all.”

“I hope I don’t have to jump through as many hoops for this.” Corrin straightened her posture, forcing away her irritation. “Alright, they’re going to have to compromise. Thanks, Tom.”

“Let me know if anything else needs moving!” Tom offered, rolling away the map.

“Hopefully not,” Azura answered, a weary smile on her face.

Corrin side-stepped to Isabelle’s half of the room. She was a strange, dog-like person and looked like a cuter version of Kaden’s fox form. “Anything I should know, Isabelle?”

Isabelle worried her lip as she grabbed several papers and stepped closer. With a nervous smile, she started, “Well, first things first, our town’s rating has gone down.”

“What?” Azura gasped, covering her mouth. “But we’ve been taking such good care of this place.”

“You have,” Isabelle agreed, looking a little antsy. “The problem is that there’s a lot of trash.”

Corrin blinked, not sure if she’d understood. “Trash?”

“Yes, trash.” Isabelle rubbed her arm. “Takumi’s house has been overrun by trash.”

“Takumi—” Corrin had a sinking feeling she knew why her brother was in that state. “What about Leo? Did he do something? Or get something?”

“Well, I don’t know if he did anything, but he is certainly having a terrible time himself. There have been rotten turnips around his house, attracting swarms of flies.” Isabelle rubbed her chin. “I don’t get how that happened.”

“A minor war,” Azura sighed. “I would expect this from Takumi, not Leo.”

“Like I said, I should have just had them both on different islands. One for Nohr, one for Hohsido. There wouldn’t be any issues then.” Honestly, she should have just snuck here by herself, or with Azura. Just a small vacation for the two of them, sans any annoying siblings. Corrin hesitantly asked, “Anything else?”

When Isabelle nodded, Corrin wondered if she really needed to hear the answer. Pulling out another sheet, Isabelle continued, “Elise and Sakura have requested that the town’s flower be changed.”

“Elise and Sakura?” Corrin echoed, not sure if she’d heard correctly. “They both want it to be changed?”

“They’re working together!” Azura clapped her hands happily. “That’s good.”

“Oh, no, they both want a different flower.” Reading the sheet, Isabelle explained, “Sakura has asked for it to be a sakura, while Elise wants it to be a daffodil.”

“Oh…okay…” Corrin felt her energy drain. Well, there went that short-lived hope. “That’s a simple thing, at least.”

“And I have a letter for you from the airport!” Isabelle held out an envelope, her smile bright. “And that is all I have for updates.”

“Camilla and Hinoka seem happy,” Azura consoled. “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, that’s…” Corrin trailed off as she looked at the letter. That was Hinoka’s writing. There were no two ways about it. Suppressing a groan, she opened it. “What happened now?”

“Corrin, save me!” Azura read aloud. Startled, she glanced at Corrin. “She’s in danger? I thought there was nothing harmful in this world.”

“No, we brought the harm ourselves.” Corrin continued reading the letter aloud, “I keep trying to get into the island, but the airport refuses to let me in. I’ve given them all my weapons, so it isn’t that. They said someone’s blocking the entry. Could you check?”

“Is there something wrong with the airport?” Azura asked, perplexed.

Isabelle shook her head. “There is nothing wrong. If anything, Camilla has been flying in and out a lot lately. Our airport is running in tiptop condition!”

Corrin had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what was going on. “Camilla isn’t letting Hinoka on the island.”

Surprised, Azura glanced at the letter again. “Can she do that?”

“Yeah, if she keeps going in and out like that.” Corrin groaned. All of her siblings, all eight of them, were causing chaos on this island. On this vacation. She was supposed to have a stress-free couple of weeks. This was the exact opposite of that. “Azura?”

“Yes?”

“Wanna run away together?” Corrin asked, half-serious. Maybe they could start afresh on a brand-new island. An island only filled with animal-people.

It would be so peaceful.

#azura #corrin #fire emblem fates #animal crossing #tom nook #isabella #fanfic #the family is dysfunctional #no matter where #but the wars here are at least over fences

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Mickey Mouse Birthday Shortstravaganza!

It’s Mickey and Minnie’s Birthday! It was 92 Years Ago Today everyone’s faviorite mouse came in on a tide of whistling, romance and animal abuse and swept into America’s hearts and wallets. Okay I am a day late on this, I had a busy day, but hey a belated celebratoin’s still good right? Right? Eh i’m doing it anyway. Anyway since then he’s been one of animations most iconic characters, and while out of the classic power trio I vastly prefer donald and goofy, they still woudln’t be around without Disney’s big cheese and having not seen a ton of Mickey’s shorts, I felt I owed it to the big eared one to take a look at a bunch of his shorts for his birthday and see how I liked em. If your curious about my previous Donald Duck marathon, it’s CLICK THIS LINK. Unlike last time all of these shorts are on Disney+ as more of Mickey’s library is on there and one or two of these were added recently, as Disney tends to add a few a month. I do wish there were more on there.. but unlike with say the handful of shows they haven’t put on there, i’m a bit more forgiving here. For one thing, YouTube has all the shorts available from various uploaders and DIsney hasn’t touched them despite Plus’ launch. Given like most companies Disney usually has their bots a cirlcing for their content, this has to be delebrate on there part and it’s a good gesture from the company. So while not in crisp HD like the Plus copies, or as easily avaliable, you can find any short that’s happened. So the shorts not all being up at once isn’t an issue like most of the shows that are absent on Plus.

They also heavily need to cherry pick their library as some shorts simply haven’t aged well or have offensive stuff. With the exception of “The Beach Picnic”, which has a racist caricature of native americans via ants.. yes really, most of the shorts are fine to show kids, and have aged pretty well. And as my last marathon showed some shorts.. just haven’t. While not you know racist, seriously why is the Beach Picnic on there?, “Donald’s Penguin”, while utterly adorable at first, ends with Donald trying to murder a baby penguin with a shot gun. No amount of content warnings is going to get past one of their beloved icons pointing a shotgun at a baby. While Disney’s self conciousness can be silly, the splash edit and not putting the Darkwing Duck episode “Hot Spells” on plus for instance, this is one time when I can agree with them: if someone is curious about a paticuarlly offensive short or a propoganda one, youtube exists. But given Plus is trying to be all ages and dosen’t have censoring they have to be careful what they put on there, and I can respect that. I don’t think anyone’s crying a river over the fact that the goofy short where his reflection keeps saying “Hey Fat”, over and over while he struggles with his weight isn’t on Disney Plus and thankfully never will be. But seriously get rid of the “Beach Picnic”. It’s not a good short and you already have one batch of native american stereotypes with “Peter Pan”, I don’t think racist ants are the hill you want to die on disney.

So yeah, this time all of these are from Disney Plus, and since I watched them all at once, their in Watch order rather than chronological like last time. So with all that out of the way...

After the cut

1. Steamboat Willie (1928): It’s All Fun and Games Until Mickey Strangles an Innocent Duck Starting from the obvious source, Steamboat Willie was the start of Mickey’s career. And it’s.. okay. The animation is fantastic and the first half is pretty good: Theirs a pretty good gag with one of the cows. But the finale, with Mickey abusing various animals just isn’t that funny A LITTLE rattling of an animal for comedy is fine.. but the things Mickey does here are just sociopathic> And yes I know it was the 1920′s, but even in that lawless, racist, sexist time, they knew better than to strangle a duck, or, in the moment that puts it over the top, remove suckling pigs fromt heir mom and then play a pig’s teats like an insturment to make it squeal musically.. I assure you I did not make this up. That actually happens. The pacing is also fairly slow at points, with some gags dragged out, though that can be chalked up to having no way to edit the damn thing, so that part I can forgive more. What makes up for it, like I said, are some good jokes, and some gorgeous animation. Decades later and while clearly made a long time ago, it still looks vibrant and really pops even in black and white. It shows just how talented Disney was and how far the company could go with this medium. One last thing to note is Mickey’s Early personality. While he’d retain trickster aspects at times, here he bounces between the loveable jolly mouse we’d come to know for the rest of his career who sometimes has a wild streak.. and a total asshole who strangles a duck. It’s just intresting to see such a diffrent side of him, most of which would end up going to Donald over time. Overall the short is decent, not the best of Disney’s catalogue but worth a watch for the historical significance despite it’s shortcomings, pun unintended.

2. Thru the Mirror (1936): That Was a Weird One This was easily my favorite of the bunch and as of now, my favorite Mickey Mouse Theatrical Short. Part of it is that it’s entirely bonkers; The film STARTS with Mickey , sound asleep, some how astral projecting as his soul, his spirit or whatever lead shis body and having been reading Alice Thorugh the Looking Glass, goes into a mirror world. But instead of encountring evil goatee mickey, he encounters a bunch of living objects and a bunch of fun set pieces for jokes ensue. He dances with playing cards, fights an army of them, has a sword fight with the king after dancing with the queen which.. no Mickey, bad mickey, your in a relationship and so is she. Bad Mouse bad. It is entirely fucking insane, even including a living nut cracker which.. words can’t.. look

They.. they had to know how this looked right? did the director have a ball busting fetish? I mean okay if he did, nothing wrong with that, but maybe don’t put it in your children’s cartoon. That being said it does eat the shells which I find creative. And that’s what really makes this one pop. The creativity. Not a single minute is boring, every minute has something intresting going on, but without throwing too muchi n your face. It’s just a wonderful short and one that like Mr. Duck Steps out, i’ll be rewatching a LOTTTT.

3. Mickey’s Rival (1936): Mortimer: The Original Bro From the same year we have disappointment. Having grown up with the disney classic House of Mouse, I was a huge fan of Mortimer. So when I first saw this, I was happy to see where he came from.. then justifably blocked it out of my mind till this review. While I love mortimer, I love Mickey having a sleazy rival and one diffrent than Pete who has different goals and tactics than the big guy. But his debut just has him as an obnoxious snickering bro.. which to be fair is who he is, but without the venre of charm his later version would have. Mortimer just spends the short being a pranking douche, and blatantly hitting on Minnie in front of Mickey while their on a date. Which even in an open relationship is a no no, so he has no leg to stand on.. metaphorically. He also walks weird in this one because, and this is true, he’s carying 9 volt batteries in his pants. Yes really. That’s the level of Douche we’re dealing with. Someone so up their own ass they carry batteries int heir pocket instead of money or a mask or children’s trading cards like a normal person or a me. What makes it frustrating is Minnie just swoons over the guy. And not like “Awww he’s so funny”, I mean romantically then has the gaul to say “your just jealous” when Mickey is understandably fuming over the jackass who swooped in, pranked him, is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him by teasing a bull, and in general is just the worst. Yes.. yes he is. Justifably. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but there’s a line between some dude bro like Mortimer getting mad your friends with someone you could be in a relationship with, boy, girl, neither, both, whatever your into, and Mickey getting mad his girlfriend is chuckling all over her ex who agian, crashed their date and treated him like garbage and is very transparently hitting on her in the middle of it. It’s also just not a very funny short, outside of the bit pictured and tha’ts more for the sheer aburdity of Mortimer elctifying his pant for a really dumb gag about stealing people’s pants button. He’s very lucky we didn’t see Mickey’s Epic Mickey is what i’m saying. But given he’s a frat bro, the 1930′s version granted but a bro nonetheless, he’d probably find that hilarious until he noticed the sheer size and scope. Overall a forgetable, frustrating short. The one bright spot is mickey and mortimer’s cars which have faces and stuff and look neat.. otherwise it was just a waste of my time and the only good thing it did was bringing Mortimer into our lives. And that ain’t nothing.

4. Mickey Down Under (1948): ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

This is a quick one.. because this one was a vacum. I mean I can at least say for Mickey’s Rival it’s interesting.. i’ts not good but it’s interesting. this is just.. Mickey farts around with a boomerang with his dog and then pisses off an ostrich. There’s not really a lot of consequence or intrest is what i’m saying. I can’t even find a good opening to make a letterkenny joke. No one got close to fucking an ostrich here. It’s telling by the fact theirs no gif’s of this one that no one cares and it baffles me this is one of the ones Disney chose to gussy up for D+ release. But still no donald messing around with a robot?

5. The Band Concert (1935): That’s More Like It. Okay scooting back a year we have the band concert. This is my third time watching this one and it’s a delight. Like the last one I don’t have a ton to say.. but it’s more because this one is just so good rather than because it wasted my time. It’s got a fun concept and the breakout performance from my boy donald duck as he constantly fucks with the band’s performance by either getting in their faces or hilariously pulling Flute’s out of thin heir. I miss that gimmick for donald, his love of pulling objects out of the either via magic and shenanigans. They should bring it back. Also his shenanigans remind me of opus and that’s never a bad thing.

Also Horace takes off his shirt. For the Ladies. A Classic for good reason.

6. On Ice (1935): Donald is a Bastard Man Another great one from the same year. This time around we have what i’ve come to call a Mickey and the Gang Messaround. This is back when Donald and Goofy were supporting characters, so generally each of the big three do something, usually coming together for the climax. In this case Mickey tries to help Minnie with her skating, with him adorably following her around with a pillow before showing off for her, just really sweet stuff. Goofy’s bit is hilariously dumb, as fitting my boy, as he feeds fish tobaco to get them to spit into a spitoon, and tries to club them, with predictable results. While not the most enivrionmentally friendly just the sheer oddness, the fact it sort of works minus him actually clubbing them, and one of hte fish smacking him in the face all make it work. The only bit that reallyd osen’t is Donald and pluto... it was present a bit before but here illustrates why I really dread Pluto based shorts. While I don’t hate the dog, he’s a dog I love dogs, most of the gags in his old shorts, and even up to mouseworks are him either being blamed for shit that’s not his fault, a pet peve of mine, or being tourtured in some way...

But dosen’t work at all now. He puts the poor dog on skates and then laughs at him and even sings a song mocking the poor dog, before justifably nearly ending up going over a watterfall, then ending up clubbed in the head. Good. I love donald but good god is he unsympathetic here.. and for some reason they teamed the two up again for more shorts! Why. It’s why I don’t get why Pluto was the star of his own shorts: if this is all they had.. why do it? Was the 30′s, 40′s and 50′s equilvent of a micheal bay audience really that into dog abuse? So yeah otherwise a good short but that segment drags it down. not Donald’s best work.

7. Clock Cleaners(1937): This is a Great One Not much to say on this one. It’s pretty good, has some fun set pieces, and some great jokes from all three characters. Mickey deals with a seagull, donald effs with a main spring and Goofy fights some statues. All good clean fun. My lack of brevity is more because I don’t have any jokes rather than this genuinely being bad. It’s pretty good.

8.. Mickey and the Seal(1948): More Pluto Torture Porn!

This one’s more of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it is really cute, as a young seal ends up going home with mickey after he visits the zoo to feed them fish. On the other hand.. it’s mostly Pluto chasing after the seal, Mickey being kind of a dick to pluto and not getting he clearly saw SOMETHING in his house, and then teasing him at the end despite him having been right. That being said the ending, with the seal brining back all it’s buddies to mickey’s house, is fricking amazing. ALso the seals in this unvierse who aren’t antrho can speak. That.. that raises a lot of questions I don’t think disney can answer.

9. Ye Olden Days (1933): Jaunty Dueling Music Now this.. this was a fun one. Mickey and Minnie head to Medivil times, proving that the current shorts tendency to jaunt to various settings isn’t a new thing, and it’ sjust a much of a fun change up here as it was there. Mickey, a wondering minstral, ends up trying to rescue Minnie after her father throws her in a dungeon for not wanting to marry Prince Dippy Dog, who hopes she can learn to love him. I can’t tell if he’s genuine or a dick here. But it’s fun, especially the part where, after Minnie declares she loves mickey which.. it’s been a few hours slow down, they decide on a duel and thus sing some ragtime, 1930′s getting ready for duel music that’s just catchy. if X Of Swords ever gets a movie, I want to use this song. Just.. really good stuff. A fun short with some great gag,s a great concept, and my boy goofy as the villian. What’s not to like? Alright one more.

10. MIckey’s BIrthday Party (1942): Big Chicken Breasts We end on another all together now, Mickey and the Gang Messaround that was a great note to end on. I did watch another short, Pluto’s Birthday party.. but it was both more of a Pluto short and more Pluto torture nonsense, so yeah, skipping that one, as I ended up one short of my 12 goal because I can’t count, apparently. So Mickey gets 10, but this one’s a good note to go out on.

Minnie throws a suprise party for mickey which almost turns into a live sex celebration as Mickey clearly is a wee bit horny going in. But it turns into a fun dance party, with Donald throwing out razzes like a good buddy, Goofy making a cake, and some fun gags with a piano they all bought him. It’s a really good short. That’s the problem with Mickey Shorts and doing all D+ ones: There just isn’t the weirdly offensive stuff to talk about there is. He’s not a bad character, but there’s a reason in every short that features all three, Donald and Goofy easily outshine him. Mickey’s not a bad character, but when not in trickster mode, there just isn’t a lot for him to do. It’s why the comics reinvented him, much like they did for donald, into a plucky detective/reporter who reguarly sovles crimes. He’s not bad, and as seen with Ye Olden Days and Thru the Miror, his blank slateness cna be put to good effect and house of mouse gave him more of a personality, but here he’s just the bland good guy to Donald’s loveable scmap and goofy’s loveable dumbass. It’s an issue comedy has to this day: having a lead whose just.. not as intresting as the rest of the ensemble. There is weirdness to note, as Donald dances with Clara Cluck> That’s not the weird part, he and daisy took a while to be etched in stone. The weird parts are 1. Donald wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigar, and 2. Clara’s MASSIVE boobs.. yes really. Clara Cuck has giant breasts. Like actual boobs that sway around while she dances with donald. it’s.. bizzare. Not terrible, who doesn’t like big chicken boobs but just.. really really weird to see ina Disney cartoon.But yeah it’s jus ta fun note to end on.

And that was MIckey’s Birthday special. I enjoyed it even if I had less to say than I thought. If you liked this review, you can comission your own for five bucks, just hit up my pms or my discord , avaliable on request. You can check out my ohter disney reviews in the disney tab on my blog and until next time, ther’es always another rainbow.

#mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #goofy goof #clara cluck #hoarace horsecollar #clarabelle cow #mortimer mouse #mickey's birthday #classic disney shorts

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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 4 years

Text

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: A bit of angst

A/N: Sort of trucking along, now into chapter 4, which gets us into the meat of this whole story, so I guess this sorta qualifies as a slow burn? Not sure. Anyway, enjoy!

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit. I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer , @beskars , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld , @lilkermit14 [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 2 – Well, It’s Valuable for Starters

Coral Gables Restaurant sits right on the banks of the Kalamazoo River, serving as the perfect backdrop to any lunch or dinner date. It was Robert’s favorite place to eat and the whole staff knew him. So, lunch dates for the two history buffs could last hours and no one would say anything to them.

Long after the lunch plates had been taken away, Robert nursed his beer and Rosemary leaned back in her chair, letting the early summer sun warm her skin. As she sat there with her eyes closed, Robert let himself just watched her. She was tall with a brunette pixie cut – the only hair style he’s ever seen her sport – and he noted there was greyer hair than when they first met and finer lines on the youthful face.

She took up a lot of space with her personality and that’s what he loved best about her. Of all the people Robert called his friends, none were close to him like she was. When he met her not long after she started at the museum and it was an almost instant rapport.

He never had children of his own, never even gotten married. But something about Rosemary drew him to her and he felt this love for her like he hadn’t ever felt for anyone else in his nearly seventy-two years. When the doctor gave him the prognosis, he realized the sadness that had washed over him wasn’t about his death but the fact that he had someone he was leaving behind. It both hurt and consoled him. He wasn’t going to be alone.

“Rosie.” His voice was soft, but she still heard him and opened her eyes. He smiled at her and she sat up and nodded, pulling her chair closer so she was more comfortable to chat. The waitress appeared with refills for Rosemary’s lemonade and another beer for Robert. They stayed quiet until she left. When they were alone again, she raised her eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

“If there are things in those boxes that you can sell for the museum, go for it. There are a few I want the museum to have and one item it needs to take.”

“Well, I doubt I’ll take anything that will cause me extra work, but we can draw up the deed of gift on the other items as normal. I already have my eye on a few things, which are probably among what you are already giving us.” He nodded. “What’s the item you want us to take for sure?”

“The Cornucopia.” Her eyebrow raised in confusion at the comment. “It’s a priceless art piece, a friend of mine valued it at three-quarters of a million dollars. On the low end of things.”

“WHAT?” Rosemary’s jaw dropped. Holy shit.

“I know, I was surprised it valued so high as well. I bought it at an antique shop in Chicago years ago and given how valuable it is, I want the museum to have it.”

“Uh, hell yeah!” Rosemary’s eyes began to gleam with glee and Robert laughed. He knew she was thinking of Fred and he was pleased he could help her get a leg up on the man. While Breyers had never been anything but courteous towards the storeowner, there was an underlying hostility to the curator’s words and actions. Something about the greedy curator never sat well with Robert and he shared in Rosemary’s dislike of him.

“When we head back to the house after lunch, we’ll talk more.” The two sat back and grinned at each other.

---***---

“But, ma’am. . . Ma’am. . .” Agent Horacio paused, the murderous look on their face not even showing up in their voice. “Ma’am, I get what you are saying. I’m asking you to set up a meeting with me to go over the case. Yes, we reopened it. Yes, we’re working on it. Now if you would just. . .”

The ever-patient voice of the agent faded into the background as Carmichael skirted the table with a handful of photos, a small smirk on her face. She walked up next to Pike as they filled the evidence board with the last of the pictures from the case files. A second and third board were set up on the other side of the room, allowing the team to make further critical connections to the cases they had so recently linked together.

They worked quietly for a bit, Carmichael subtly shooting glances at Pike, whose brow was furrowed in concentration. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she turned to look at her partner.

“Okay, spill. How did the date go with Lucy in Accounting?” Her voice dropped to a whisper belying the eager look on her face. Pike grimaced at the question as he pressed on the last of the push pins.

“There was no date. She stood me up.” Her loud gasp caused a few of their team to look their way, but she ignored them, giving Pike a look to continue. “I called twice, and she never answered. Never even showed up to the date itself. I don’t think I can go back to Bobby’s anymore. Lindsey is starting to feel sorry for me.”

“Hell, I feel sorry for you, Pike. That’s the third date you’ve been stood up on in, what? Two months?” Carmichael’s voice softened. The poor man was having a rough time of it, what with Lisbon breaking his heart, his divorce before that, three failed short-term relationships after he came to D.C., and now this series of no-show dates over the last year. She frowned and laid a hand on his wrist, which had stilled on the last pin as his words died on his tongue.

He didn’t look at her and she could feel him stiffen underneath her touch. He pushed down his growing frustration at the situation and turned to smile at her, the grin not coming close to reaching his eyes. His shoulders squared up as if to say the conversation was done. She had known the man for six years and just wanted him to be happy, but for the moment, she gave him a small smile to help him with his charade.

“It’s okay Carmichael, maybe I’m just not meant for a relationship.” His voice sounded almost sad at the tone and she bowed her head.

“I don’t think that’s true, Marcus.”

“Yeah, well the universe is working hard to tell me that I’m meant to be single. I should be listening instead of fighting it.” He sighed and turned away, walking out of the room before anyone could comment on the large frown that had formed on his face. She looked after him, a defeated look in her eyes. No one loved as hard and as loyal as him, he deserved the world. She knew that the right person for him was out there, but she couldn’t understand why Pike hadn’t crossed paths with his soulmate yet.

She turned back to the board, picking up the marker to begin labeling the photos they had posted. While she wrote, she silently prayed to the universe that her partner’s heart found its home sooner rather than later.

-*-

Pike looked at himself in the mirror, droplets of water still on his skin and the strands of hair framing his face were damp. Splashing water on his face helped cool down his skin, but Carmichael’s words of sympathy had stung, even if she meant well, and he had to leave the room before he got upset even more. As he leaned against the sink, he bowed his head and took a few deep breaths. The small moment of zen from earlier in the day had faded and the headache had returned.

It was known that the agent wore his heart on his sleeve, that he was loyal and generous to a fault. Most of his colleagues loved him for it and it inspired loyalty from those who worked under him. But none of that seemed to translate into anything romantically successful. At this point, he was certain that he was a running joke throughout D.C. and that women agreed to a date to see how long he’d wait at his favorite diner for someone to show up.

Last night, Lindsey comped his dinner because she just couldn’t take the defeated slump to the man’s shoulders one more time. She even went home and hugged her wife, hoping a little of her joviality would seep into her bones. If Pike knew that, he would have bitterly laughed at the idea that he can help other people love harder, he just couldn’t get people to love him back.

After letting the dark thoughts swirl through his brain for a little longer, he stood up straight and glanced into the mirror. He wiped his face one more time and straightened his tie. Without looking back at his reflection, Marcus Pike vowed to himself that he wasn’t going to let anyone in anymore. He was here to catch art thieves and that’s what he was going to do.

He just prayed the yearning in his heart heard the declaration, too.

---***---

Rosemary huffed as she staggered up the walkway to the front door of the museum with the heavy box in her arms. She cursed herself for thinking that she could carry such an awkward and heavy load by herself, but she was a stubborn mule and was determined to get it all done in one trip. She sighed when she reached the top of the short staircase.

She reached out and kicked the frame of the door into the building knowing that their long-time volunteer, Bob, was at the front desk. There was something about him that grated against Rosemary and if truth be told, he was a bad volunteer, but he was the only reliable one and so she had to put up with him and his nonsense.

She realized with a start that she’d been standing there for several minutes, and no one had come to the door. She peeped through the glass and saw Bob sitting there, looking her way. Grimacing as she shifted the box, she kicked the door again, harder this time.

And he still didn’t move.

With a low growl, Rosemary shifted around and pressed her butt against the handicap button on the wall and with a sigh of relief, she walked through the now open door. While the June day wasn’t particularly hot, the sun was still warm and the physical activity overheated her. The cool air of the lobby felt like kisses of heaven on her skin and she slightly closed her eyes at the sensation. When she opened them, she looked directly at the man in front of her.

“Bob, did you see me kicking the door?”

“Yep.”

“So why didn’t you come open it for me, you clearly saw my hands were full.”

“Kicking is rude.” The man’s rheumy eyes stared at her and it took two deep breaths to ensure Rosemary wasn’t going to start screaming. She gave him a tightened smile instead and she walked over to the elevator. “Rosemary, the elevator is for handicap people, you’re not handicapped.”

“Bob, the elevator is for everyone. Goodbye!” She entered the small space and leaned against the wall. We need him, we need him, we need him, she chanted to herself, nothing convincing her that it was true. The ride to the third floor was a short one, but the heavy box made it seem longer. When the doors opened, she took a left down to the staff offices and her workspace.

She did her best to carefully set the box down on the bench, but she grimaced as she heard rattling inside. When it didn’t sound like anything broke, she heaved a sigh of relief. She turned her head as she heard footsteps from the hallway and within moments, Helen enter the room.

“How did it go?” She had a small smile on her face, coming closer to the work bench

“Not bad, I took one big box of stuff – good stuff, too.” The curator grinned and Helen grinned back, curiosity all over her face.

“Nothing ugly?”

“God no. As my grams liked to say, ‘God don’t like ugly.’” She lifted the lid off the box and suddenly Rosemary screamed, scaring Helen and causing her to scream, too. The latter jumped back towards the door, unsure of what was happening. The sounds of the two women yelling echoed in the room until the scream Rosemary let out evolved into a laugh, tinged with adrenaline. “FUCKING ROBERT!”

“WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?” Helen was now on edge and creeping back closer to the work bench, still wary. Rosemary reached into the box and lifted out the stuff monkey she passed over earlier. Helen recoiled at the sight.

“I thought you said you didn’t bring back anything ugly!”

“I didn’t! He must have put it in here after I told him it was worthy of the dumpster.” The laughter continued as she looked at the stuffed animal. Finally, she sighed and set the monkey down on the bench.

“You’re not putting it in the collections are you?” The director still looked at the item with wariness. It was truly ugly with its almost realistic eyes. She shuttered before looking away.

“No, but I’m going to keep it, though. He’d probably make a better watch dog than Banana.” Looking around, Rosemary turned to her boss. “Speaking of which, where is that dog of mine?”

“He’s in your office, conked out on the couch and snoring away.”

“See?! I need the monkey now. My own dog, of whom I am his whole world, didn’t even come hither at my screams. I am abandoned and unloved.” Rosemary ended her dramatic comment on a sigh, her hand against her forehead. The two women began to laugh again.

“By the way, please for the love of all that is holy, find someone to replace Bob at the front desk. He watched me kick the door to get in and refused to get up.”

“Did he say why?”

“Yeah, ‘kicking is rude.’” Rosemary mimicked the old man’s gravelly voice and rolled her eyes. Helen patted her shoulder and said she’d chat with Bob about it, but the curator didn’t have much faith in the forth-coming conversation. The director left the room and Rosemary dove back into the box to pull out the rest of her treasures.

---***---

“Here is the paperwork on the history of The Cornucopia. Please promise me that you’ll list this as a restricted item.” Robert sat down, a file folder in his hand. “I know better than to make outrageous demands, but I want it in the paperwork that this item cannot be loaned out, it cannot be displayed, and it is to remain the collections for the rest of the museum’s existence. I don’t even want it announced that you have the piece.”

He took a breath and Rosemary’s eyebrows furrowed. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he had restrictions on the item. He continued.

“The piece is valuable; I don’t want the museum becoming a target for it. I’m giving it to you because I know you’ll protect it.” Rosemary nodded as she thumbed through the file, skimming the history of the sculpture. She looked up at him.

“Let me write up the deeds for you and we’ll note everything you want me to list in terms of restrictions.” She got up and went to her computer set up on the table. For the next hour, she sat asking Robert questions and filling out the forms, using the printer to create physical copies. After she was done, she sat back.

“We’ll take good care of it. I promise.”

---***---

The next day, Rosemary sat at her desk, imputing the new collection pieces into PastPerfect, transcribing notes she had scribbled in her binder. Most of the pieces she had taken were worth it; besides the map, she took a few pieces of pottery from a celebrated local artist, a couple of prints that dated back to the Fort’s early years, seven quilts, and several history books. And of course, The Cornucopia.

She pulled the file out for the sculpture and sat back in her chair. After opening the folder, she began to read the files she had skimmed earlier. The more she read the appraiser’s history more her eyebrows crawled up her forehead.

The Cornucopia was created for Russian Tsar Nicolas II by renown Ukrainian artists Artem Chumak. The bronze sculpture was inlaid with rubies, sapphires, yellow diamonds, jade, pearls, and opals, most mined from around the Russian Empire. Ukraine historically has been known as the breadbasket of Russia and the piece was commissioned by the Ukrainian government as a gift to Nicolas upon his marriage to Princess Alexandra of Hess. It’s value at the time of creation was $250,000 USD.

It is known that Dowager Empress Maria took the piece, along with several other valuable items after the fall of the Empire and she sold it to the Grand Duke of Luxembourg in 1920, who in turn loaned it to the country’s National Museum of History and Art the following year. The museum returned it to the family during World War II to protect it from the advancing German army. It was again loaned to the museum for another twenty years before the family chose to cease ownership.

The piece was then sold via Sotheby’s Auction House in 1965 to a private collector in the U.S. and has remained in private ownership since then. Because of its history and the materials used, the value of The Cornucopia is approximately $750,000 for insurance purposes, but on the auction block, could fetch upwards to . . .

“Three million dollars?!” Rosemary shrieked, her feet dropping to the floor as she sat up. She looked at the sculpture sitting on her worktable and her face broke out in a grin. Oh, ho ho ho, she really got the leg up on Fred Breyers this time. This was the best gift that Robert could have ever given her.

#Agent Marcus Pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fanfic #the mentalist

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

All right, you have officially sold me on Bobby Drake. Where do I start reading?

Its a good question, lol! Honestly, it mostly just depends on how far back you want to go. I mean, he’s been around for sixty years, lol, so there’s a shit ton of appearances to wade through, and it depends on how familiar you are with the X-Men as a whole.

If you’re not familiar with the X-Men or Marvel in general, this is actually a really good time to jump in with reading the current books without much prior knowledge. Just last year the X-books underwent a huge status quo shakeup in the two limited series House of X and Powers of X, that pretty much like....transformed their entire place in the Marvel Universe as a whole and gave them a whole new playing field that was all pretty clearly laid out within just those two series. So its a really good starting point to kinda catch up quick to where things stand now and then just branch out from there to whatever catches your interest.

Bobby’s a main character in a book called Marauders currently, which is only on issue #6 or #7 right now, and the book is pretty central to the major happenings in the X-Men’s corner of the universe. Plus a lot of great characters in the rest of the cast - Storm, Bishop, Emma Frost, etc.

If you want to start from way far back and have a good long, consistent read, the original X-Factor (the first series, vol 1) is where I would go. I don’t think anyone really needs to read the original X-Men series from the 60s to get a handle on the characters or universe, and personally I’ve always found X-Factor a much better read using all the same characters except with the added bonus of no Xavier. As he is. The Worst.

Between the original X-Men run and X-Factor’s debut, Bobby, Angel and Beast popped up on various other superteams, like Bobby and Angel were on the Champions together for a bit, and then the three of them were on a team called the Defenders for a while...if you can find old Defenders issues online (this would have been back in the 70s/early 80s), they’re worth checking out just for Bobby’s brief romance with a shapeshifting character named Cloud who he first met as a woman but later shifted into a man. And while they decided to just be friends at that point, given that this was the era of the Comics Code when gay relationships were ‘frowned upon,’ this was the earliest and most blatant gay-coding of Bobby, literal decades before he was made canon gay in the comics. Plus, they’re just pretty fun stories and Bobby and Cloud were super cute together.

But yeah, then X-Factor ran for a number of years without interruption, staying consistent with the same core cast of just the original five X-Men and the supporting characters they introduced in that series, like Rictor (another future famous gay X-character, just a wee punk teenager at the time, lol). It was pretty fun overall, IMO, should give anyone new to the Marvel U a pretty solid grasp of all the major players in it, and its where a lot of big names like Apocalypse made their debut. And of course, I think Bobby was well written throughout it. X-Factor was also where a couple of the things I mentioned in that post happened, like the storyline where Loki kidnapped Bobby to use his powers to make his army.

After that.....basically, the original X-Men left that title to rejoin the X-Men when Marvel relaunched the X-Men line with a brand new X-Men #1 in the early 90s....and at the same time, they kept the already existing Uncanny X-Men title going, which was around #280 at that time.

Since they had such a huge cast of characters at that point, they split the X-Men into two fairly iconic lineups, the Blue and the Gold....the Blue team were the chronicled in the adjectiveless X-Men book, and featured Cyclops, Gambit, Psylocke, Beast, Wolverine, Rogue and others, while the Gold team were the main characters of the continuing Uncanny X-Men title from again, around #280 and onward. The Gold team was Bobby, Jean Grey, Colossus, Storm, Archangel, and then later Bishop as well, etc.

This era was where a lot of the best Bobby stories took place, IMO. Very early after the Gold team was formed, Bobby had a mishap with Mikhail Rasputin, the older brother of Colossus, whose powers shifted Bobby into his organic ice form for the very first time, where he became living ice that he could control and shapeshift and heal, rather than just cover himself with ice. This was the beginning of them exploring the versatility of Bobby’s powers and what eventually led to them making him an omega level mutant, though even back in X-Factor they’d established that he was far more powerful than anyone had realized before that.

Then Uncanny X-Men #311 continued this and launched one of the most pivotal periods in Bobby’s development. An accident led to a comatose Emma Frost’s mind jumping into Bobby’s body and taking control, and she used his body and powers to seek revenge for the deaths of her own students, and in the process pushed his powers even further than anyone had thought possible. This is where he came to realize he could literally teleport by melting into any body of water and recreating himself anywhere else connected to that body of water, like traveling from one end of a river to another, or even across oceans instantly....as well as proving to him that he could literally get holes blown in his ice form and just fill them up with new ice and transform back into his flesh and blood self, none the worse for wear.

This period also led to him showing up in Generation X a lot, where Emma became one of the teachers for that generation of young mutants, because during this time, Bobby and Emma like....clashed a lot, because Bobby had a lot of issues about her hijacking his body and then taking it on what was essentially a suicide run at the time, and was also resentful of her being instantly able to do things with his powers he hadn’t even conceived of with years of training with them, and Emma was....prickly at the best of times, back then even moreso than now, so she tended to taunt him with this and push his buttons by insinuating she knew more about him than he did himself, and she knew what really was holding him back all these years, etc, etc....but then they eventually formed a very unconventional but real rapport, and decades later, they still have this weird thing where they’d probably never admit to even liking each other, but they probably respect each other more than just about any other of their teammates combined. (Also, the Christian that Bobby is currently with in the comics is Emma’s older brother).

Back to Uncanny X-Men....to take his mind off of everything that the body-jacking by Emma had brought up for him, and because Rogue was having a lot of similar issues due to her new relationship with Gambit and the glimpse of various secrets of his that she’d gotten via her own powers....Bobby and Rogue decided to take a road trip together, that went on for about a dozen issues all in all, and are some of my all time favorite Bobby stories. This includes Uncanny #319, where they go visit Bobby’s parents together and Bobby tells off his dad in epic fashion (this was literally the first comic I ever read, and still one of my faves today, lol....also he made a giant ice palace off the coastline that was as big as a city and that has nothing to do with anything except for the fact that it was very pretty and very gay. Foreshadowing!)

Then there were a couple of big iconic crossover events that took over all the titles for awhile - the first was the alternate universe Age of Apocalypse event - and its worth tracking down and reading in its entirety, IMO. Definitely one of the most pivotal ‘events’ in Marvel history, but it was actually pretty good, too? LOL. And the Age of Apocalypse version of Bobby was pretty bad ass. (He returned in Rick Remender’s X-Force title about fifteen years later, but we don’t speak of Rick Remender or that return, for both are bad and wrong).

Then reality was restored, and the Onslaught crossover happened, and like.....really the only thing you need to know about that is its basically where the entire Marvel Universe teamed up to fight the evil brain baby slash hatechild of Professor X and Magneto. I’m just saying. Read it at your own peril. I’m not even saying its BAD, I’m just saying. Read it at your own peril.

Then in Uncanny X-Men #340.....that’s the issue where Bobby left the team for awhile to take care of his dad after he was almost killed at that hate rally I mentioned in one of my Bobby posts today, so I forget where the whole ‘going undercover in Graydon Creed’s campaign’ storyline started, but back up a bit from there and you’d be good to go. He and Sam (Cannonball) went undercover together and that was basically the start of the epic Bobby and Sam bromance slash subtextual romance that I still love to this day, too.

Then he was out of the books for awhile, off taking care of his dad, and didn’t really return until this big event called Operation: Zero Tolerance happened, wherein the government went after the X-Men directly and captured pretty much all their big guns, and Bobby came back to help and had to single-handedly rescue a bunch of random mutants from Sentinels and make an interim team with which to like, save the day themselves. O:ZT is actually a really good story for him, I really like how competent he was portrayed there, and also it was the introduction of Dr. CeCe Reyes, who is also a fave. She was also briefly a sorta/not sorta love interest for Bobby, that of course didn’t ultimately go anywhere. On account of, y’know. His Massive Gayness.

Then Bobby left the team again to go return to taking care of his dad, and also because certain writers hated him (though tbh, Bobby’s actually one of the longest running heroes in the Marvel U, as in....he’s spent the longest consecutive times active in various books/teams without taking breaks, compared to pretty much all other characters who aren’t Wolverine, Captain America or Spider-man. He was a constant presence in books pretty much from his creation up until the mid-90s, so like, he was due for some time-off. I GUESS. WHATEVER).

From this point, he didn’t return until a storyline called The Twelve. It was very bad, and very dumb, and you should not read it. Your brain cells will thank me later.

Then there was a miniseries called X-Men Forever - this you SHOULD read, as its where the term omega mutant was essentially coined for the first time in the way its been used ever since, and its where both Bobby and Jean found out they were omega level mutants for the first time. And Mystique and Toad and Juggernaut were also there because....idk, tbh. That was all very strange to me. But! Still! Worth a read!

Then came a veeeeery underrated Iceman solo miniseries of four issues, that is weird but also very worth tracking down as it was a great Bobby, very poignant and also kinda sad, but like. I’d highly recommend. Especially as it was pretty much the last good Bobby for awhile, with the exception of Joe Casey, who wrote a decent Bobby but a terrible Everyone Else.

Then we enter the Dark Ages of Bobby. Where everything is bad and all the writers are the worst.

First up is Chuck Austen. Bobby was a core member of his X-Men lineup, throughout his run. This is not a good reason to read Chuck Austen’s run. Do not read Chuck Austen’s run. You’re welcome.

Then there was Peter Milligan’s run. Peter Milligan’s run was not as bad as Austen’s run. This is not a good reason to read Peter Milligan’s run. Do not read Peter Milligan’s run. You’re welcome.

Then Mike Carey took over. You CAN read Mike Carey’s run. You probably even SHOULD read Mike Carey’s run. He is not perfect, but he liked Bobby and we like him for liking Bobby. His Bobby actually spoke in complete sentences and displayed more than one emotion per issue. And Supernovas is a pretty good arc and was actually where the Children of the Vault were first introduced, and they were just brought back in the most recent X-Men issue to be a recurring antagonist, so they’re like. Relevant and stuff.

And then there’s Messiah Complex, which is basically the Advent of Oh Hai, Everything’s About To Get Just Fucking AWFUL For Mutants From Here For the Next Ten Years Or So, and there’s like....blechness with Bobby and Mystique, which...I mean....all else aside, she’s Rogue’s MOM, but WHATEVER. Look, there were....plot reasons. Kinda. So. Whatever. Just blink rapidly and move on from that as quickly as you can.

You can pretty safely jump ship at that point, because Divided We Stand is No, Second Coming is Ugh, and Schism is Why. And also there’s Age of X in there somewhere, which is to be avoided because Age of X basically just wanted to be Age of Apocalypse and its not Age of Apocalypse. Just like Age of X-Man is similarly not Age of Apocalypse, and even Age of Apocalypse 2.0 is not Age of Apocalypse. Stop trying to be Age of Apocalypse, everybody. NONE OF YOU ARE AGE OF APOCALYPSE.

You may have one (1) year of Marjorie M. Liu writing Astonishing X-Men, as a treat. She wrote a great Bobby, this was where the whole ‘freezing the whole Earth, whoopsie’ thing happened, and it was a great and very underrated story.

Then post Schism there’s stuff like Wolverine and the X-Men, where Bobby’s a main character after being lured to take Logan’s side in the Schism instead of Scott’s, with the promise of Being Relevant. ‘Twas a lie. Bobby ‘twas there, but hardly relevant. And Jason Aaron is not as good a writer as advertised, since he’s mostly the one doing the advertising and like.....dude should not trust his own hype. There’s weird and whimsical, and then there’s just plain WEIRD, and most of Wolverine and the X-Men is the latter, claiming to be the former, and like. You can’t trust anyone these days.

Then comes the Era of Bendis. Die, Era of Bendis, Die.

Do not read the Era of Bendis. Do not speak of the Era of Bendis. If the Era of Bendis bursts into flames on the street next to you, look pointedly away, and trip anyone who runs up to try and douse the Era of Bendis with a bucket of water.

Just trust me. The Bendis, and then the Hopeless (that’s the name of the actual writer who took over on All New X-Men, but it pretty well sums up the feelings of Bobby fans on the matter too, ‘twas fate), and then the Bendis again....bad, bad, bad and also Superbad, but not the movie.

You will hear promises, siren songs, of a young, teenage time-displaced Bobby Drake having his first boyfriend, an Inhuman named Romeo. THIS IS A LIE. ITS A TRICK! A TRAP! DO NOT FALL FOR IT!

Basically everything is blah blah blahful for awhile....until the Bobby solo series by Sina Grace, which gets a bad rap, but I maintain its worth the read. Like, I’m not going to call it my favorite take on him or anything like that, but its still good fun and a vastly more competent and compelling Bobby than anything Bendis ever eked out.

And that basically catches us up to the present, where we’re at with Marauders.

So!

There you go! Umm....this was supposed to be just a brief list of arc titles to check out, but then I went and hyper-fixated like a BUFFOON, so....umm. Yeah! Have at it!

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clumsydarknut · 5 years

Text

The Brothel Fic - Part 1: Home

Previously restricted to a small audience in the LinkedUniverse Discord Server, this non-explicit short story delves into the more mature side of our heroes and their journeys. During a pitstop in Hyrule’s time, the group spends a night at a questionable establishment per Hyrule’s suggestion. While they are met with nothing but hospitality, the stop reveals parts of their characters and their morals that make them the Spirit of the Hero.

Per JoJo’s LU rules, no requests for explicit content to be made from this short will be accepted.

This story is not about angst - it’s about what it is to be human, and what it means to be a hero. I worked very hard to present these themes meaningfully and respectfully, and though they have the occasional dash of humor, I urge you to be careful in your discussion of this work as the topics can be sensitive. I also encourage you to delve into the symbolism - I’ve written in a lot on purpose, and if looking at metaphors critically is not something you’re used to, trying it here will likely improve your enjoyment of this piece! And as always, I highly encourage anyone and everyone to play any Zelda game they can get their hands on - they’re all so good! Thanks!

Beginning | Next | Most Recent

—

Hyrule’s world was exhausting. Not a single day went by without some sort of ambush, and mindless enemies like bokoblins didn’t seem to exist. Every foe was just as intelligent as they were dangerous. And he did this completely on his own? Warriors thought. He’s much tougher than he looks.

“Should be just ahead,” Hyrule called from his place in the lead. Warriors sighed in relief. This forest seemed endless and he very much was looking forward to a proper bath. “You guys will love this town. Amber keeps the best lodging and Raven makes a roast chicken like you wouldn’t believe.”

Amber? Raven? The trees gave way into a decent-sized village bustling with townsfolk. Hyrule grinned excitedly and beckoned to the group, practically skipping up the road to a two-story building on the edge of the river. From what Warriors could tell, all of the windows were blacked.

He exchanged concerned glances with Legend. “Uh, Hyrule?”

Hyrule didn’t notice and gave a solid rap on the door. It swung open to reveal a young woman with incredibly curly hair and a bodice that… made Warriors a tad more than uncomfortable. The girl’s face lit up at the sight of the new guest.

“Linky!” she screeched, throwing her arms around Hyrule’s shoulders.

“Jade!” Hyrule returned the hug. “It’s great to see you!”

“Better to see you, Linky,” the girl giggled. She glanced over his shoulder and perked up. “Who are your friends?”

“Bit difficult to explain,” Hyrule chuckled, “but we’re looking for a place to stay. Do you know if Amber can fit nine more?”

“Anything for you, Linky,” Jade winked. She rushed back inside. Warriors looked around at the other Links, who all bore the same confused expression.

“Uh, Hyrule?” Legend said a bit louder. Hyrule turned. “You… know this is a brothel, right?”

Hyrule frowned. “Does that make a difference?” Warriors’ eyebrows shot up.

“Um, yeah, just a bit,” Twilight replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“Wait, what’s a brothel?” Wind piped up. Seven faces went suddenly pale.

“Hyrule,” Time growled, “There are children present.”

Hyrule seemed unfazed. “Their hospitality is unmatched, and there is no better source of information in the whole of Hyrule. I trust them. Better here than the inn. I swear I saw the innkeeper turn into a bat once.”

Before they could argue further, Jade reappeared in the doorway with two other girls. “Come in, come in! We were just about to have dinner.” Warriors felt his stomach leap into his throat as one of the girls – a short, curvaceous blonde with bright green eyes – grabbed his arm and tugged him inside.

Oh Hylia. The inside of the building was lush and warm and full of women. Warriors felt his face flush as he tried to keep his eyes from dipping to where they shouldn’t. Oh Hylia help me.

“Linky, darling!” An older woman wearing a tad too much rouge greeted Hyrule with a warm smile. “Come, sit! Raven made us roast chicken tonight and you know her – always makes too much!”

Hyrule grinned excitedly at his increasingly uncomfortable companions. Instantly each hero had a girl clinging to each arm, leading them through the lobby to a dining room in the back. The blonde giggled and hugged Warriors’ bicep tightly, and he suddenly felt as though his trousers were a touch too tight.

The group of heroes sat down around the long dining table. Hyrule immediately struck up a conversation with the older woman – Amber, it seemed was her name. Wild and Sky took seats next to each other and began wolfing down food without looking up, sitting close enough together that the women couldn’t squeeze in between to flirt. Wind looked utterly perplexed as Time and Twilight sandwiched him, giving warning glances to the women flocked around them. Four looked the most uncomfortable, drilling a hole into the table with his stare while two towering Gerudo women fawned and giggled over his “adorable” tunic.

Legend, on the other hand, had finished being uncomfortable and decided on being thoroughly amused. He shot Warriors a smirk as he took a glass from a girl in a scarlet dress. Warriors felt himself pale as the man leaned over and whispered, “This is your territory, isn’t it? Go on, Captain.”

“Shut it, Legend,” he hissed. It was too late, however, as the blonde pressed into him further.

“Ooh, a captain?” she cooed, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a captain before!”

“Oh, but Layla…” Another woman came up on his other side, this one tall and voluptuous with deep violet hair. “A captain at his age? Surely he’s too young.” She smirked and gave him a wink.

“Mmmm, maybe you’re right, Venus,” Layla hummed. Her emerald eyes blinked up and met his gaze. Warriors’ breath hitched. “Are you… really a captain?”

Her eyes were beautiful, peering up at him through thick, dark lashes. Her scarlet lips parted softly, her delicate jaw tilted in a not-so-innocent invitation. Legend was right. This is his territory. Territory of pure, velvety soft skin from the crook of her jaw down along her slender neck, over her tender shoulders and diving beneath her low-cut silken blouse. Oh yes, this was his territory.

No! What am I thinking?! He gulped at his dry mouth as he continued to stare. I’m captain of the Royal Guard! I have an image to uphold! This is a Nayru-forsaken brothel! He licked his chapped lips. Have to stand my ground. Scare her off, maybe.

“I-I am.” He had intended it to be deep and intimidating but was horrified to hear it escape more as a squeak. Oh Din please let Legend not have heard.

Layla giggled profusely and pulled down his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. “I didn’t know they let people so young do things so important.”

“Adorable, he is,” Venus sang. “Just look at that face!”

A third woman, this one older with curls of scarlet, leaned over the back of his chair. “So pretty. Such beautiful hair.”

“You didn’t get made captain just for your looks now did you?” Layla winked.

“N-no!” Warriors stammered indignantly, his face – among other things – heating up uncomfortably. “I’ll have you know I earned my place just as any other knight!”

“Oh, well then,” the ginger snickered, “How’d you get to be such a warrior so young?”

“You think he’s even legal?” Venus grinned at her fellow.

Warriors’ jaw dropped. “O-of course!” The words came out with a horribly embarrassing crack in his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Legend holding back laughter. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Of course I am.” The girls giggled more.

“Aww, such a tough boy,” the red-head sang, pouting her lips and stroking his hair. “There’s no shame in telling the truth, honey.”

That got him. That line clinched it. This may be a backwater whorehouse in some goddess-forsaken version of Hyrule without order or law, but he wasn’t about to be taken for some innocent child like poor, confused Wind. He took a breath and puffed out his chest, summoning the confidence he usually reserved for battle, and locked eyes with Layla. These ladies were going to know just how legal he was, and if he had his way, they would enjoy it.

“Sugar, they don’t make children Captain of the Royal Guard.”

—

Hyrule let himself and his fellows sleep far past dawn the next day. This was a place he could trust, and it was doubtful they would have beds this soft again any time soon, so it wasn’t until they gathered for breakfast that he noticed something was off.

“Hey, where’s Warriors?”

The group looked up from their meals to him and then at each other.

“I thought he roomed with you,” Wild replied.

“No, I roomed with Four,” Hyrule said, squinting down at his plate.

“Well I was with Sky,” Wild offered.

“I kept Wind with me,” Time added, taking a sip from his glass.

“Wouldn’t let me leave the room at all…” Wind muttered.

“Legend? Twilight?” Twilight shook his head, but Legend instead leaned back in his chair and put a hand over his mouth. Hyrule gave a confused squint, and Legend responded with a flick of his head to the door across from him.

Hyrule turned to find Warriors striding into the room with the face like he’d just been made Grand Commander. He looked to Legend, then back to Warriors, mouth agape. Warriors met Hyrule’s gaze and stopped dead in his tracks. The room went silent for what seemed like millennia.

“…Warriors, what did you do?”

The blond tugged at his scarf. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Hyrule took a deep, long breath. “Who did you room with last night?”

He could practically see the beads of sweat forming on Warriors’ brow. “I, um, well…”

Hyrule took a step closer. “Warriors, what did you do?”

Warriors was silent for another second, then gave a nervous smirk. “Well I mean, it’s not like it’s out of the norm here.”

Fist met jaw and Warriors was sent reeling back into the wall. Sky and Wild jumped to their feet and grabbed hold of Hyrule’s arms as he struggled to land another hit.

“WHAT THE HELL WARRIORS! THEY’RE LETTING US STAY HERE OUT OF GOOD WILL!”

“It’s a brothel Hyrule! You can’t expect me not to accept their services!” Warriors rubbed his jaw and grimaced.

“Just because they’re selling, DOESN’T MEAN YOU NEED TO BUY!” Hyrule roared.

Warriors chuckled under his breath. “Honestly she should have been the one paying me.”

Hyrule charged forward and slammed Warriors into the wall, dragging Sky and Wild with him. Both scrambled to get out of the fray as Hyrule revealed a side to him the others had never seen – the Hyrule that had survived this lawless kingdom. Sparks and flames burst from his skin almost involuntarily and Warriors cried out for help.

“Hyrule!” Time roared, wrenching him off of the now badly bruised blond.

“He- but-” Hyrule gave up making a coherent sentence and instead gave a guttural scream, struggling even against Time’s goron-like grip. Four beckoned for Time to pull him into the next room as Wild rushed to examine Warriors’ face.

Hyrule’s mind was reeling. How could he? How could he do that? They’re- these girls- How could he? He hardly registered Time releasing him or Four putting a hand on his shoulder.

“He… they…” Hyrule mumbled. Four simply waited, grip firm but gentle. Eventually Hyrule’s mumbling ended and Four felt it right to ask.

“Why are they so important to you?”

Another few minutes passed before Hyrule answered.

“I… don’t remember much of my family,” he began. “They were gone before I could speak. I honestly don’t even know where I’m from – I’ve been on the road for as long as I can remember.” He let out a short laugh. “You guys call me Hyrule, but I don’t even know if I’m Hyrulean.”

Four made to comment that Twilight wasn’t technically Hyrulean either, but stopped himself. Time had mentioned Ordona Province might once have been part of Hyrule proper, and dancing around the technicality wouldn’t make Hyrule feel any better about the subject. Instead, Four simply nodded.

“I spent most of my time hopping from cave to cave, since that’s where I’d find shelter and occasionally a family with some spare bedding,” he continued softly. “I didn’t really have a home until the Princess invited me to stay at the castle, but that still felt just as empty. Queen Zelda is wonderful, but the castle at the time was anything but homey – what with being half-destroyed and all. I didn’t stay there long and went back to bed-hopping while I helped rebuild.”

Four nodded again. Sometimes familiarity was more comfortable than the fluffiest feather beds.

Hyrule paused, letting out a soft sigh. “When I set out on my next quest, I saw towns for the first time. Real towns. Towns with histories and families and buildings more than a year old. At first I just thought of it as more cave stops and the like, but… I stumbled into a brothel one day not really knowing what it was, and everyone was just so… nice. They fed me and gave me a bed and were always trying to help with my mission.” He laughed again, this time a little more cheerfully. “Hell, if Jade in there hadn’t told me the ghost story about the empty church house and the bell tower I never would have learned that downthrust technique. I’d be dead right now. And Ganon would still rule here.”

“That’s less than ideal…” Four breathed. Hyrule didn’t notice.

“My point, I guess… I don’t really know what ‘home’ is, or what it should feel like, but… the closest I’ve had for a long time is here. And I guess some of the other houses in other towns.” Hyrule met Four’s gaze. “It’s not much, but it’s something, right? Something… something I want to protect.”

Four didn’t say any more, but Hyrule could sense the understanding. They all had their rag-tag improvised families somewhere out there. He felt a little weird that his happened to be a bunch of prostitutes, but he didn’t regret it. He’d never accepted their services, of course, and they’d always been so kind. They’d cared for him and helped him back on his feet. Sometimes they’d make him angrier than a scorpion, but they always made him laugh, too. The girls were the closest thing he had to what he might call sisters. Hyrule clenched his fist. And Warriors had to go and…

“Hey, relax,” Four said at last. Hyrule felt his magic spark angrily, but he obliged. “Beating the shit out of him won’t be productive for our quest.”

“Does it look like I can think about our quest right now?” Hyrule snapped.

“No, which is why I’m doing it for you,” Four replied. “And while I’m at it, I have a better revenge plan.”

Hyrule perked up slightly. “What would that be?”

Four smirked. “If I recall, you’re not the only one who can change in size and appearance at will. Hasn’t Warriors been begging you to teach him some spells?”

—

Warriors was pretty sure he was in the clear. It had been almost a month since the incident at the brothel and Hyrule had long since stopped glaring him down. He had actually been rather friendly as of late, which was definitely a nice change of pace. He hoped it stayed that way as they came up on the next town.

As soon as they finished setting up camp, Hyrule extended a very sudden invitation.

“Hey, Warriors, want to learn some magic?”

It caught him off guard, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise. “What? Now? Sure!”

Hyrule led him off into a clearing and began teaching him the incantation for a spell he called Thunder. It wasn’t terribly difficult to pronounce, despite being in Hyrule’s version of Hylian. The trick, he found, was getting the magic to activate and flow properly.

“You should sort of feel a tingling. Magic is energy, not just words.” Hyrule motioned for him to try again. “Call on your emotions, your fighting spirit, and then channel that through the words.”

Warriors took a breath, closing his eyes gently. Once again he spoke the incantation, and at last he felt it. The surge of power sent ripples up through his fingertips. He grinned in excitement. I’ve got it! I’m doing it!

Just as quickly as his excitement came, it was replaced by terror. With each ripple, his outstretched arms grew smaller. The ripples came faster and faster and his eye level fell lower and lower on the trees.

“Hyrule!” he screeched, discovering in horror that his voice was now several notes higher. “HYRULE WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

He looked up to see Hyrule stood over him… grinning. Warriors’ terror quickly turned to rage.

“HYRULE WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!” His voice was almost a squeak now. “WHAT WAS THAT SPELL?! THIS ISN’T THUNDER!”

Hyrule chuckled. “You’re right.” In one motion, he scooped up the tiny Link and Warriors found himself in a crystal bottle. “It is most definitely not Thunder.”

“Hyrule!” he shouted. Hyrule carried the bottle back to the camp, and to Warriors’ dismay, the entire camp was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, no,” Legend snickered, “Now that’s just too good.”

“What did you do to me?!” Warriors screamed. “What am I?! Why am I small?!”

“You brought this on yourself,” Wild chuckled.

“Brought what?! What am I?!”

“Oh, you’ll find out tomorrow,” Four grinned.

—

From inside the bottle Warriors could see they were approaching a building very similar to the one the incident had taken place in. He had figured this was Hyrule’s revenge for that – Hylia knows why it upset him so much. Just as he expected, as soon as they were inside his bottle was placed on a table for all the girls to see.

What he didn’t expect was what the girls said.

“Oh Linky where’d you catch such a pretty fairy?”

“Linky she’s gorgeous!”

“Can we play with her Linky?”

Hyrule smirked evilly down at the now utterly dumbfounded Warriors. “Sure you can. I bet if you ask really nice she’ll help you with your hair.”

I most certainly will not! SHE?! Warriors began spewing obscenities at the top of his lungs while the girls giggled excitedly. Hyrule picked up the bottle and gave it a tiny shake.

“You will help them with whatever they ask, or,” Hyrule grinned, “I won’t help you turn back.”

“What the hell, Hyrule?! What did I do to deserve this?!”

Hyrule seemed to be enjoying every second of this. He licked his lips as if savoring what he said next.

“This is for screwing my sister.”

#linkeduniverse #thebrothelfic #loz fanfic #fanfiction #fanworks #hero of hyrule

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bnhaworld · 5 years

Note

Can you do a scenario where Shoto finds out his s/o is a part time masked vigilante that goes after corrupt heroes to expose them (basically they're a morally correct version of Stain) and then he learns they plan to target Endeavor?

I MADE THIS INTO A FIC BC IT WAS TOO GOOD TO RESIST ;W;

I changed a little bit of the story in which the reader works for a group!! I hope you enjoy it.

The ending is a bit bad but I hope you guys can still enjoy it- -Calamari

Secrets // Shoto Todoroki x Reader

In which Shoto realizes what task lies ahead of you.

Tw: Some mentions of abuse.

Shoto is highly observant. You weren’t the slightest aware of just how much he had noted the disparities in your schedules once you’d moved in together. After dating for nearly three years, two of those out of high school, you had successfully roped him into scoring in apartment for just the two of you.

The first night, instead of sharing with him the small celebration dinner he had prepared, you had disappeared into the night stating work was calling. He hadn’t questioned it, despite the fact that it was too dark for it to be office hours.

You had come home quickly, after Shoto had given you a vaguely panicked pair of calls. That night, a hero was murdered; and immediately exposed for his drug dealing scheme he had been pulling off on the side. He had been found dead within the comfort of his own apartment, scattered with the remnants of his previous scandalous life style. He had been injected with awful levels of morphine and not a single hint had been found about the suspect

He rushed to your side when you entered and wrapped you in his arms, whispering into your shoulder that he worried for your welfare and he wished you would stay home. You nervously reminded him that your work didn’t quite have a set schedule.

This was his first hint.

On a separate occasion, you received a call at the dead of night. It was your boss telling you that a new hero had moved into your very neighborhood and he needed to be executed tonight. He was going to negotiate with the mafia tonight and it was the perfect story to simultaneously rid of the ‘societal parasite’ and expose his story for what it was.

It was nearly 3 in the morning, and you were well aware of the consequences that came with denying your boss of his orders. You packed your hidden gear into a large, black sack and began to head for the door when you heard a frigid voice halt you in your rhythm.

“(Y/N)..? Why are you.. leaving?” He drawled out, wiping his eyes of the drowsiness still leaking from his system. You walked over to him, hoping that the very concept of time would simply slip away from him at this time.

“The bossman called. He forgot there was some work we needed done by tomorrow. I’ll be back soon, alright?” You sauntered over to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You felt a faint smile on his lips as he placed his hands around your waist. He pulled away, pressing a singular kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in the morning..” He paused, his smile growing somewhat malicious as he continued. “I’m so glad we live together and we can be honest with one another.”

As he stepped away from you, you felt your heart being pulled at its strings like a puppet. You didn’t respond to him. You adjusted the strap on your bag and headed out, letting a melancholic sigh find its way to your lips. One day you’d tell him. It simply wasn’t time yet.

As you exited the doorway, Shoto watched from around the corner. He had another clue.

A month passed. One full month with no job, but enough money from the previous few to fall ahead in terms of currency, especially considering the added income from Shoto’s highly successful hero job. The pair of disappearances never slipped his mind, though.

On one night, he asked if you could talk. You obviously agreed- it was frequent he’d need to discuss something with you, but the time for these meetings were always random, but purposeful.

“(Y/N), be honest with me, please.” He was twiddling his thumbs. There was seldom a moment in which you’d catch Shoto in a moment of visible nerves. You were concerned, however, your focus was more on the reason for the discussion. You were sure it was the fault behind his quivering palms.

“Shoto? What’s wrong?” You asked with caution, placing your hand on his. He pulled them away after a brief moment with caution of his own, dual-typed eyes refusing to lock on to yours. You felt your insides recoil at such a small action. He had never so outright rejected your affection. You said nothing, however.

A sudden lump sat firmly in your throat and beads of sweat began to form at the top of your head. Had he figured it out? Your secret job you’d spent years hiding from him?

“You know the vigilante? The one that’s been going after different.. ex-heroes and eliminating them?” He asked, his lidded eyes giving you a scanning glance. You half-nodded. Your anxiety coursed through every inch of you to the point where even words were difficult to formulate.

“Is.. Is it you? Please, (Y/N), I need to know.” He spoke in soft whispers, as though he was well aware of the answer but was afraid to listen to its contents anyways.

There was a silence so thick in the air that even the sharpest knife had no means of getting through it without receiving damage of its own. You felt tears strangling you and begging you for the mercy of relief. The lump in your throat hooked on to the edges of your throat and attempted to climb its way passed your lips. All the while, the truth perched itself a top of your tongue, waiting for you to flick it away and ruin your relationship for good.

“I am.” You choked out two words. It was enough for Shoto to simultaneously freeze and burn the table in front of you, leaving a puddle of ashes on the floor. You hadn’t even flinched. You knew exactly how he’d react.

Shoto said nothing. His blank expression shared all emotions and yet, held every secret possible. He got up and went to his hero office, which was directly in the apartment. You heard the click of the lock, and then there was silence in the air once more.

“I was going to tell you, Shoto,” You spoke softly, and yet, the silence perfectly carried your words to his room. “But there isn’t a right time to say something like this.”

No response.

“I’m sorry. I will wait for you, Shoto. Please, tell me when you’re ready to speak..”

Hours passed. You were glued upon the seat you had begun the discussion at, drowsiness eating away at your body but your nerves canceled out the sleep you so helplessly desired.

The door creaked open.

Shoto emerged, eyes mildly puffy, but demeanor softer and more open. He said nothing as he assumed his previous seat and cleared his throat.

“(Y/N)..” He began in a faint voice. “I don’t.. mind.. If you do this in your time to sustain our house. I just wished that for one, you’d told me sooner and that you’d warn me before you went out to do that. I want to be prepared, (Y/N). This isn’t easy. It isn’t easy knowing you were behind those deeds, and who knows just how many more like this have happened? Though they are.. corrupt. I understand it.. a little. I just.. I love you, (Y/N). We’re going to figure this out.”

Another year went by with seldom work. Every once in a while, you’d be called off for a job. A hero here, who went down due to his dangerous lust. Another hero gone and exposed for strange addictions. Things were smooth sailing, more or less.

Shoto never directly addressed your line of a work again. You knew, however, that he at least tolerated it to a certain degree. You were grateful for his slight understanding, however, everything changed the night of your latest job.

Endeavor was your latest target.

You received this text in the midst of the afternoon where Shoto was gone off on another shift.

Boss: Enji Todoroki is guilty as well. He abused his children and his wife and we don’t know what else he has possibly done. It is a high task, I’m aware, however, I am trusting you will do well.

You stared blankly at the message, panicked tears streaming like a river down your cheeks. A singular tear splat against the screen of your phone, and it felt as though a ticking time bomb had gone off. You burst out into violent tears, clutching the fabric of your shirt and hoping, needing someone to give you any kind of help.

Shoto got home at the moment.

He found you on your knees, racked heavily with wordless tears that hacked away at your lungs and willed your breathing away. He immediately drops the bag he was carrying and rushes forth to you, wrapping his arms around you. He himself grows panicked. He doesn’t know what to say or do to comfort you because he doesn’t know what had just happened.

His eyes half glance at the phone, however, once he catches sight of his own last name, he recoils and rereads the message. His face flushes of all identifiable emotions.

He looks back at you. He can’t figure out his emotions at all. He wishes to calm you down and tell you everything will be alright. But he also feels anger boiling in the very pit of his stomach at both you and the man forcing you to undergo this pain. He can’t think of a solution right away. There is too much going on, and he can’t piece together a perfect solution.

“(Y/N).” Is all he can muster. He takes each of your hands in one of his, piercing through your thoughts and hoping he can steal some of your thoughts and add it to the growing equation in his head. He takes one of your hands and presses it to his lips.

“Let’s run away.” He whispers. It is the first thing he can think of. He can’t come up with anything else. It is the only solution that makes sense, and even for him, it’s a little far fetched.

“What..?” You murmur through dying tears, slowly removing your hand from his to wipe away your remaining tears.

“We both don’t fit in here. You have things. We have money. Let’s just.. go to another country. Together, where no one can find us. We’ll be safe and together..” He is speaking in a tone that makes it feel like he means it. As though he could predict the future.

You weren’t sure what exactly caught your attention throughout the entirety of his words, but you were sure you knew that he had described exactly what you had been wanting without even realizing it was what you had been searching for.

Without another moment, you both pack everything. Within another few hours, you are gone with him. Within days, there are search parties. Within weeks, you are exposed for your deeds. However, throughout years..

You were never found. Neither was Shoto.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha insert #mha insert #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #todoroki #bnha todoroki #shouto todoroki x reader #fluff #x reader #bnha x reader

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rabbitcruiser · 1 year

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National Rubber Ducky Day

According to Sesame Street’s calendar, January 13 marks the birthday of Rubber Duckie, the bathtub toy of Ernie. The day has since become celebrated as Rubber Ducky Day. Rubber Duckie first appeared on Sesame Street Episode 0078, on February 25, 1970; Ernie was in a bathtub in a room that resembled his living room, and sang the song, “Rubber Duckie.” The most popular version of the song was sung by Ernie in Episode 0136, on November 16, 1970. This time he was in a bathroom with a plain blue background. Jim Henson was the real voice behind the song, and it went to #16 on the Billboard “Hot 100 Singles” chart in 1970 as well. Ernie, either by himself or with other characters, has sung other songs about his rubber duckie such as “Put Down the Duckie,” “D-U-C-K-I-E,” and “Do De Rubber Duck.”

Rubber toys first appeared in the late 1800s, as the rubber industry began to grow. The first rubber ducks were not intended to float, but were instead made to be chew toys. A patent for a “Hollow rubber toy” was filed in 1925 and granted in 1928; it included a picture of a floating duck. Peter Ganine made a sculpture of a duck and then patented it. He filed for his patent in 1947 and received it two years later. Over 50 million of the ducks were sold. By the late 1940s rubber duckies were popular, but Ernie’s “Rubber Duckie” song increased their popularity even more a few decades later.

Nowadays rubber duckies are usually not even made of rubber, but of thick vinyl instead, which is cheaper and more durable. Most are made to squeak and have a bright orange bill. They are sometimes made into characters; some are made to look like they have a profession, or are politicians or celebrities. Some wind up and “swim,” while others glow in the dark, light up, or change color. The largest rubber duck was made by Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman in 2007. Its dimensions were 54ft x 66ft x 105ft, and it weighed about 1,300 pounds. Besides people making giant rubber ducks, some people also collect them.

Rubber duck races take place to raise money all around the world. When people sponsor a duck, money is donated to an organization. Ducks are dumped into a river or other body of water, and the first duck to cross the finish line wins a prize for its sponsor. Hundreds of rubber duck races are held in the United States and internationally. The largest one in the United States is the Freestore Foodbank Rubber Duck Regatta in Cincinnati, Ohio. The rubber duck was inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame in 2013. The Hall of Fame “recognizes toys that have inspired creative play and enjoyed popularity over a sustained period.” New toys are added each year.

On January 10, 1992, close to 29,000 Friendly Floatees from a Chinese factory washed off a ship. Friendly Floatees are bathtub toys, and the ones that fell off the ship consisted of yellow ducks, blue turtles, red beavers, and green frogs. Two thirds of the toys floated south and ended up in Australia, South America, and Indonesia. The other third went up to Alaska and then circled back towards Japan. Many became trapped in Arctic ice in the Bering Strait. They moved through it at the pace of about a mile a day, and made it to the North Atlantic in 2000. Some arrived on the Eastern coast of the United States and Canada around 2003 and 2004, and most of the rest of them arrived in the United Kingdom in 2007.

How to Observe

The best way to celebrate the day is to take a bath with a rubber duck. You should also listen to “Rubber Duckie” and watch Ernie singing the song on Sesame Street. You could also look for rubber duck races to sign up for, and read Moby-Duck: The True Story of 28,800 Bath Toys Lost At Sea.

Source

#National Rubber Ducky Day #NationalRubberDuckieDay #NationalRubberDuckyDay #13 January #Warnemünde #Rostock #Mecklenburg-Vorpommern #Germany #Deutschland #summer 2020 #travel #vacation #giant rubber ducky #original photography #cityscape #national day #roadside attraction

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shuusuis · 5 years

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[ENG] Mukanshu Main Story 1: Island of Ice and Fire

Mukanshu （夢間集）Main Story 1: Island of Ice and Fire, Scenes 1 - 11.

Read below ↓

* Specific notes for each scene are at the bottom of that scene.

*Some general notes: I’ve left the character’s names untranslated, but have opted to translate the location names since they provide context (and are translated in the novels). For more information on the characters introduced thus far, check their profiles.

Scene 1: The Journey Begins

Player(1): (Where am I......?)

I stop before a stone wall, feeling a slight warmth with my right hand. I gently trace my finger over the wall’s engravings, as if being guided by some unseen power.

Stone Wall’s Engraving: “Under heaven, no one could be my equal-- unbearable loneliness is my destiny.(2) The bravery of youth, the tranquility of adulthood, the complacency of old age- once these have passed, there are no further boundaries to be crossed!”

As my finger brushes over the final line of the engraving, a light is emitted for just a moment, and I involuntarily close my eyes.

[Scene change]

Ryoku: “..................hmm?”

Suddenly, a young man stands before me, blinking and smiling.

Player: Who…...are you……?

Ryoku: Huh? Don’t look at me like that. I don’t look like such a bad guy do I…… There’s no need to be scared. I’m Ryoku(3), a renowned treasure. Ah, but truth be told, I don’t exactly know why I’m here. When I woke up, I was here beside you.

Player: Well, where are we?

Ryoku: We’ll talk later. This area is full of demons and monsters(4). I absolutely won’t let anyone get hurt while I’m around. Since I can handle these monsters, you should come with me for now!

Monsters: Grrrrrrrooooooooowl!

Ryoku: Well, speak of the devil! I guess there’s no avoiding it, here we go!

Notes:

(1): Player character is...you! I forgot what the default name the game enters for you is, so I’ve just left it as player for now.

(2): This quote is at least partially adopted from the inscription on one of the character’s in Jin Yong’s novels, undefeated swordsman Dugu Qiubai’s tomb. The full quote can be found here and reads: “Having roamed the jianghu (martial artists' community) for more than 30 years, I have killed all my foes and defeated all champions. Under Heaven no one can be my equal. Without any other choice, I could only retreat and live in seclusion in this deep valley, with only a Condor as my companion. Alas, all my life, I have sought a match but in vain. Unbearable loneliness is my destiny."

(3): His name literally means “Green”. He’s a weaponized bamboo stick used by members of the Beggar’s Sect in Jin Yong’s Legend of the Condor Heroes.

(4): They use the term 魁魅魍魎 (lit. mountain monsters and river spirits). It’s a fairly broad term with a lot of historical context, read more here.

Scene 2: Mysterious Amnesia

Ryoku: Whew, what a dangerous place! Are you alright?

Player: Yeah, I’m fine.

Ryoku: It’s a good thing I’m here otherwise you probably would have been eaten by now.

Player: Thank you. This place ... Why am I here?

Player: (The only thing I can remember is that dream from before. My name is….. ) Player: I’m sure I…… I have to go back to that place……!

Ryoku: Hmm? You’ve got some place you wanna go? Well, let’s get out of here first!

As Ryoku finished speaking, the ground suddenly began to shake.

Ryoku: Follow me! Let’s get out of here fast!

Notes:

If you’re playing along with the games audio (which I recommend!) you’ll know that there are small battle between these scenes, which is why the cuts between stories is so sudden and why (in the future) new characters may join during battles. Also, the separation of scenes with battles is also the reason some scenes are so short (like this one).

Scene 3: In Search of a Dream

Ryoku: They’ve got us surrounded. This might be a little tough by myself.

Player: (I felt a familiar power in that dream …)

(If I could return to that place….)

(I’m pretty sure…. Ryoku will be helpful.)

[Lights flash]

Player: (I’ll search for it!..... That dream from before….)

Scene 4: Wandering Bell’s Chime

Kinrei(1): Where are we?

Ryoku: Here? This is the Island of Ice and Fire.

Kinrei: The Island of Ice and Fire? I’ve never heard of it.

Kinrei: Hmm, how do you intend to get out of here?

Player: We were just looking for a way out of here. Why don’t we search together?

Ryoku: Sounds good!

Standing before Ryoku, Kinrei continues to eye him suspiciously.

Player: Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you.

Kinrei: ……. There are many cunning, vile people out there, I can’t trust you so easily.

Ryoku: It’s not like we’d gain anything from hurting you. Besides, don’t they say “two heads are better than one”(2)? I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. You think so too, right?

Kinrei: …………… Fine, I understand. But what I said earlier still stands-- once we get out of here, we’re complete strangers. I won’t care anymore.

Ryoku: I figured Kinreicchi would agree after all!

Kinrei: Ki….kinreicchi? What’s with that nickname?!

Ryoku: Ahaha! Now then, I wonder who’ll show up next~

Notes:

(1): Kinrei literally means “Golden Bell”. In Return of the Condor Heroes, the heroine Xiaolongnu uses a sash strung with golden bells as a weapon.

(2):「三人寄れば文殊の知恵」a phrase that literally translates to “Three people together have Manjushri’s wisdom”. It is the equivalent of phrases like “two heads are better than one” or “the more the merrier”, indicating that having more people in a group benefits the whole.

(3): Kinreicchi: Ryoku added a cutesy-sounding ending to Kinrei’s name.

Scene 5: The Heavenly Sword Appears

Ryoku: Whoooah! Jackpot! Who woulda’ guessed that the legendary Iten (1) would show up! *whistles*

Kinrei: I’ve certainly heard the legend: "The powerful and honorable weapon: the Dragon Saber; It can slay the Dragon. Use it to command the world. Who dares to disobey orders? If the Heavenly Sword does not appear, what weapon can go against the saber effectively?"(2)…Since Iten has shown up, it stands to reason that Toryuu(3) may soon appear as well, right…?

Monsters: Grrrrrrrooooooooowl!

Ryoku: Those nasty monsters don’t know when to give up, huh!

Iten: I sense the presence of evil…!

Notes:

(1): Iten literally means “Heavenly Sword”, sometimes translated as “Heaven Reliant Sword”. He is one of titular weapons in the novel “ The Heavenly Sword and the Dragon Saber”.

(2): The mantra that kinrei recites is straight from Jin Yong’s novel; this English version can be found here along with the context for the surrounding lore.

(3) Toryuu literally means “Dragon Saber”. The second legendary sword from the same novel as Iten.

Scene 6: Island of Ice and Fire

Once again, the ground began to shake and continued rumbling for a while.

Iten: Where is this place? The terrain seems so unstable…

Ryoku: We’re at the Northern Sea of the Island of Ice and Fire. The island’s name is derived from the cycle of ice and volcanic eruptions that have been ongoing for millions of years.

Iten: The island of Ice and Fire…

Kinrei: Huh? You know this place?

Iten: Yes. I’ve heard stories of it before, but this is my first time actually being here. However, this place is brimming with evil spirits. It would be best to leave as soon as possible.

Ryoku: If Bro Iten says so, then we better hurry up and find a way out of here!

Scene 7: Iten’s Old Friend

The shaking of the ground violently intensifies, seeming as if it could collapse at any moment.

Iten: That’s strange… that guy should have immediately known that I had appeared here… why hasn’t he shown up yet…?

Kinrei: “That guy”? Are you acquainted with someone else on this island?

Iten: Well, it’s more like we’re stuck with each other…(1)

Kinrei: Could it be...that you’re talking about Toryuu?

Iten: Right… well, you don’t have to worry about him.

Kinrei: You’re right. For now, let’s find a way out of this place.

Notes:

(1)“we’re stuck with each other”: Iten literally says “腐れ縁”, lit. “rotten affinity” meaning an undesirable, yet unfortunately inseparable relationship.

Scene 8: Heart of Ice and Fire

The coastline of the island is compacted with ice; within the center of the island, a volcano rises. There isn’t a single way to get across.

Ryoku: There’s no way out of the island even along the shoreline….

Kinrei: It’s possible that there could be a hidden pathway somewhere….

Ryoku: We’ve searched the island’s perimeter already, I guess we’ll have to head for the island’s center now.

Kinrei: Seems like the closer you are to the center of the island, the stronger the presence of monsters and demons.

Iten: I sense spiritual energy concentrated in the center of the island…. It’s possible that there’s something inside.

Kinrei: I suppose that means it would be worthwhile to go there.

Monsters: Grrrrrrrooooooooowl!

Ryoku: It wasn’t just your imagination, the number of monsters really is increasing! Everyone, be careful!

Scene 9: Cursed Mirror

An enormous monster appeared before us when we reached the center of the island. It gazes down at us from its perch atop a mirror that emanates a dark aura.

Player: This one’s the same sort of monster?!

Kinrei: This monster is made up of many evil spirits…. For one to reach such a massive size, how much evil energy must accumulated inside its body…

Ryoku: Whooooah, that thing’s freakin HUGE! Don’t tell me we can’t beat it...

Iten: The blade of this heavenly sword shall not return to its scabbard until every last drop of blood has been drained! A monster of this level is nothing to fear.

Player: Wait a moment! There are smaller monsters surrounding it too. First we should exterminate them, then focus on getting rid of the enormous spirit!

Scene 10: Shards of the Cursed Mirror

Just as the defeated monster fell, the mirror emanating the evil aura fell as well.

I pick up a fragment of the mirror and notice three characters inscribed on it: “Soul Stealing Mirror”. I feel as if I’ve seen patterns like this before…

Ryoku: Would you look at that! Now that the snowcap has collapsed, we can see a way out of here!

Iten: It’s possible that the entire island may start to collapse…

Toryuu: Hurry, this way!

In the midst of running, the fragment I was holding slips from my hand.

Panicking, I stop in my tracks and stoop down to search near my feet.

Kinrei: What are you doing!?

Ryoku: Hurry! Cracks are forming in the ground…..!

Player: But ... that mirror’s shard…. I have to find it!

Toryuu: You idiot...!!

I’m stunned as Toryuu grabs my hand and begins to pull me ahead.

Scene 11: Within the Dream World

Ryoku: (panting) We somehow escaped…?

Iten: What were you waiting for back there?.....We narrowly avoided death.

Iten turns his gaze on me condemningly.

Ryoku: What were you searching for earlier?

I tell the other how the inscription on the mirror was similar to the engravings I saw on the stone wall within my dream.

Ryoku: What was the place in your dream like? Maybe someone there would have a clue as to what’s going on.

Player: Whenever I try to remember the scene within my dream, my right hand starts to feel warm again.

[dream memory]

Player: Over there is… a cold, secluded place...where many weapons are buried….Around there is a stone wall with an old inscription that reads:

“Under heaven, no one could be my equal-- unbearable loneliness is my destiny.The bravery of youth, the tranquility of adulthood, the complacency of old age- once these have passed, there are no further boundaries to be crossed!”

After listening to me recount my dream, Toryuu and Iten speak up at the same time.

Toryuu and Iten: That’s the Tomb of Swords!!!

After briefly making eye contact, the two avert their gazes once more.

Kinrei: What do you two know about this Tomb of Swords?

Toryuu: I heard a story of such a place long ago…. It seems quite similar to the place that you described in your dream….

Player: The “Tomb” refers to all those graves. I’m certain there are many weapons buried there. It may be just as you say.

Ryoku: I know that you want to go to that place, so why don’t we head there together? I can escort you to the Tomb of Swords

Toryuu: If the inscription on the Soul Stealing Mirror has a connection to the Tomb of Swords, it’s a good enough reason for me to go there too.

Iten: Do you think that person would still be in the Tomb of Swords?

Toryuu: I’m interested in that as well. Looks like you and I have decided to take part in this journey too!

Iten silently nods his head in agreement.

Ryoku: What about you, Kinreicchi? Aren’t you gonna come with us?

Kinrei: Huh? The place I want to go is… (sighs)... well, I’ll accompany you for a while.

#mukanshu #夢間集 #*translations #mjj #meng jian ji #梦间集

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sinceileftyoublog · 5 years

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Guided By Voices Interview: A Conversation with Doug Gillard

Robert Pollard (left) and Doug Gillard (right); Guided By Voices perform “I Am A Tree” at SPACE in Evanston

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Journeyman Doug Gillard has been in Guided By Voices for 10 years, over 2 stints, for 12 official LP’s and other releases that no casual fan could keep track of. So, apart from Robert Pollard himself, I could think of no better person to analyze the creative process behind their recent crop of records, including two so far this year, Zeppelin Over China and EP compilation Warp and Woof, and a third coming, Sweating the Plague. More than ever, GBV seems to be a democracy, and not just because each member has gotten his turn at writing a few songs. From my conversation with Gillard over the phone last month from his home in Queens, I got the sense that as long as Pollard doesn’t have a clear idea for the song, he not only welcomes but relies on the others to help him complete it, even if he was the original writer. As for Gillard, he provides the backbone of the songs, something you don’t really notice but would if his contributions weren’t there, especially the horns and strings that supply dramatic flair or emotional weight. At any given live show, he’s the heart and soul of the band, whether doing backup vocals on the set mainstay that he wrote “I Am A Tree” or dishing Pete Townshend-esque riffs on the band’s Who worship.

Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity, wherein Gillard also talks about his favorite new GBV songs, upcoming band-related news, and other projects he’s recently worked on or is working on.

Since I Left You: You’ve said Zeppelin Over China is unlike anything the band has done before. What makes it unique within the GBV discography?

Doug Gillard: I think it’s just a little warmer and has a little more orchestration and is probably the most diverse record.

SILY: A song like “The Hearing Department” is certainly hazier than your average propulsive GBV track.

DG: Yeah, Bob wanted sort of a rumba beat for that in his notes. Sometimes he has notes. Some songs he doesn’t. When we do the music, a lot of times, we just have freedom to take a song somewhere we’re feeling at the time of recording. Other times, he has sort of a vision. It’s a mixed bag, which is great. We like doing both. On that one, given that beat and the chords, it sort of reminded me of an early Fleetwood Mac song--Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac.

SILY: On “Cobbler Ditches”, does he reference “Motor Away”?

DG: I think so, yeah.

SILY: You guys have so many songs, but having listened to a lot of them, I’ve never really picked that out before, where he’s referenced a previous song by title. It had to happen one of these days.

DG: I think it’s happened in the past, but I can’t be sure. There’s been a lot of records.

SILY: On this one, you did a lot of string and horn arrangements. That’s most notable on the singles and the ones you were playing before the album was out: “The Rally Boys” and “You Own the Night”. Where else did you add them in?

DG: They’re all over the record--“Vertiginous Rafts”, the last song on the record. Really, there are little parts of strings and horns on a lot of the songs on here. Sometimes, the strings are in the version of a Mellotron, but mostly, they’re not. Sometimes, they’re really subtle, too, added just to add a little bit of atmosphere.

SILY: Who plays them?

DG: I play them. I have an orchestra program, a MIDI program administered through a keyboard. There’s piano on there--key-related things.

SILY: I’ve seen how you adapted the first two live. Is it the same approach with the others? Are you even playing them?

DG: We will be playing more songs from the record. But when we play stuff live, we just kind of rock it out. I’m not concerned whether parts on the record aren’t in the song live. I really like seeing bands that play songs on the record different from how the record sounds.

SILY: Bob has said in past concerts that you’re the most instrumentally capable version of GBV ever even though the fans want the mistakes. But you achieve the balance between the record and live well. You still retain that rawness.

DG: Yeah, I think that’s true. Sometimes, I’ll try to play some of the string lines live on guitar if there’s room. I was doing that with “See My Field”. But it’s only because I hear them. I don’t have to play them. It wasn’t a request--just something I thought I would do.

SILY: Were the last songs you wrote for GBV the ones from “August By Cake” [Ed note: “Goodbye Note” and “Deflect/Project”]?

DG: No, there have been some B-sides to singles that band members have written that have come out. They haven’t been digitized, necessarily. They were vinyl-only and sold out quickly. One was called “Red Nose Speedway”...What was the other one called? I wrote one with Mark Shue. Kevin March wrote one that ended up on the B-side of a single and so did Bobby Bare.

SILY: You don’t play them live, do you?

DG: No, that’s correct.

SILY: Have you done the string and horn arrangements on other GBV albums before?

DG: Yeah. All the stuff that’s come out so far I have done a little bit, but on August By Cake really not much at all...some keyboards, maybe a string line here or there. How Do You Spell Heaven, a little bit. [Engineer] Travis [Harrison] did some string lines on August By Cake. And I did some arrangements on an ESP Ohio record which came out before August By Cake, which was Travis, myself, Mark Shue, and Bob.

SILY: Now that you’re back in the band, as of 2016, is “I Am A Tree” going to be in the set list for as long as you’re in the band?

DG: [laughs] I’m not sure. I would say probably so, but you can never be sure. There are a lot of songs in the can that Bob likes to rotate in and out of the set list.

SILY: How does he or the band decide upon the set list on a night by night basis?

DG: Bob will have a master list that he re-sequences for every show. We’ll have a basic list for every tour, give or take some. Sometimes, he’ll get a whim or an epiphany and put something in mid-tour, which is always fine. But the sequence is different every night.

SILY: Do you have a favorite song on Zeppelin Over China or Warp and Woof?

DG: Wow...there are a lot of songs to choose from on both of those, and they’re all so damn good. Zeppelin Over China, I really don’t know what a favorite would be. Let’s see...looking at the list here...I really like “Where Have You Been All My Life” or maybe “Wrong Turn On” or “Jam Warsong”. There’s a ton, though. They all kind of have different purposes, different sounds. Warp and Woof, there are a lot of great little songs on there. I say little because they’re shorter. About two minutes or so. I think one of my favorites is “Angelic Weirdness”.

SILY: The two that are called out in terms of your contributions are the first and the final track, especially in terms of unique recording process. Didn’t you record “Bury the Mouse” in the van?

DG: Yeah, except for the drums. The drums were done first. We already had those, and we finished it on tour in the van.

SILY: And “End it With Light” was at a soundcheck?

DG: Yeah, I did guitars at the soundcheck on that one. “Cool Jewels and Aprons” is another favorite from Warp and Woof. Oh, I forgot, the last song on 100 Dougs is mine. The instrumental. If you don’t have that actual EP, I can’t remember what sequence it’s in on Warp and Woof, but it’s called “It Will Never Be Simple”.

SILY: The third record you’re putting out this year is no longer called “Rise of the Ants,” right?

DG: That’s correct. It’s going to be called Sweating the Plague.

SILY: Are you able to talk a little about that one, whether your specific contributions, songwriting, and arrangements, or the feel for it in general?

DG: To me, there are similarities to Zeppelin Over China. There’s a little more hard rock on it, a little more of a 70′s rock feel to the songs, some “guitarmonies.” But there are some really nice ballads. It has the four ps that Bob talks about. [Ed note: pop, punk, prog, and psych] Lots of punk on it.

SILY: It’s been described as a little proggy.

DG: For sure. There are a couple prog songs.

SILY: Are there any more records on the horizon for you guys?

DG: There are some reissues this year because of album anniversaries.

SILY: Bee Thousand?!?

DG: No. There’s always an anniversary of some album. Later this year, it’s the 20th anniversary of the release of Kid Marine, Robert Pollard solo, and of Speak Kindly of Your Volunteer Fire Department, which is a record I did with Bob. It was released under the name Robert Pollard and Doug Gillard, but it was the 4th one in the Fading Captain series of his records coming out around then. That has “Pop Zeus” on it and some other songs. That’s been remastered and it should be reissued in August. There may be a Cash Rivers collection coming out. I’m not sure about when that will be released.

SILY: You’re going to Europe for the first time in decades. Are you excited to play Primavera and the UK?

DG: Very much so, yeah.

SILY: When was the last time you were there with GBV?

DG: 2003, I’d say. We did a European tour and UK tour there.

SILY: Was that for Earthquake Glue?

DG: I believe so. It was either Universal Truths or Earthquake Glue. I think it was Earthquake Glue. I’ve been there a lot since with Nada Surf. I’m really excited to play there with Guided By Voices.

SILY: You contributed to the most recent Neko Case record. How did that experience come about?

DG: Neko had always liked my playing. When she was assembling songs for this record, she gave me a call, I went down to Tuscon, and I played a lot of tracks. I learned the songs. It was great.

SILY: I never realized that you were on The Hold Steady’s Stay Positive, too. I was looking at your credits and was like, “Woah, all these albums I’ve loved over the years!”

DG: Oh, yeah. I was friends with those guys at the time they were making that. I think I had just moved to New York, and they invited me to their session. Tad [Kubler] had me play the recurring riff on “Sequestered in Memphis”. That sort of Stones-y riff. That’s the only song I’m on, I think, but that was fun. They’re really good guys.

SILY: Any plans to come back to Chicago soon?

DG: I’m sure we will. We’re always around Chicago at least a couple times a year. Nothing that I know of just yet, but I’m positive something will happen in that area.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading that’s caught your attention?

DG: I listen to a lot of podcasts. Mark Riley from the BBC does a Bowie podcast, The A to Z of David Bowie. I’ve been listening to a lot of that. I’ve been checking out stuff here and there.

SILY: I don’t have anything else to ask you--is there anything I didn’t ask about you want to say?

DG: Let’s see...not sure. I’m producing a band called The Bye Bye Blackbirds. They’re a guitar pop band from the Bay Area. They’ve definitely been around for a while. They have ex-members of Game Theory, The Mr. T Experience. My friend Bradley [Skaught] is the songwriter of the band. He writes some good songs.

SILY: Anything else not GBV in your realm coming up?

DG: Not really too much. GBV’s been planning a busy year with recording and shows and tours coming up, so I’ve been kind of leaving things open for that. It will be busy playing shows for sure. Really nothing else right now.

SILY: Thanks again for your time, I really appreciate it. Congrats on the releases, and looking forward to hearing the next one!

DG: For sure!

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bioticgoddess · 6 years

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Songbirds and Baby Bats (IV)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood,he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself…and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

Notes: This gif was so much more appropriate. You’ll understand shortly. Enjoy ladies and gents! Posting early because this weekend is a mess...Enjoy!

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PART IV

Jason arrived at the cafe first. He’d been volun-told to get up, after a much longer than anticipated patrol, to meet Dick. They were going to review the transcripts of relevant conversations pulled from their listening devices placed in the cars of Black Mask, Falcone, and Maroni nearly two weeks prior. It had taken them days to pull the relevant conversations and turn it into easily annotated paperwork. He would have absolutely preferred to be spread out on Amy’s living room floor, papers like fallen snow, going through every line with highlighters and coffee and trying to gain back the ground lost in his five-year absence.

The barista, a shorter girl with heavily braided ginger hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheekbones smiled at him. It was that plastered-on yet surprisingly genuine smile that most service industry professionals mastered. A secret weapon designed to convince everyone that yes, they did want dessert to go with that huge meal they’d just eaten. Or in Jason’s case, a scone to go with his large iced coffee. “Would you like anything else Jason,” she asked sweetly, scribbling his name on the side of a plastic cup.

Another of the baristas, tongues in hand, retrieved his scone from the pastry case. “No, but thanks, this looks great,” He grinned, accepting the paper bag the second barista handed him. Handing the ginger barista a twenty, he walked off, not bothering to collect his change, “You guys keep it.”

Her thanks was genuine and emphatic. It made him smile.

Dropping into a heavy cushioned chair near the pick-up area, Jason stretched out. He’d only agreed to meet Dick here because Amy couldn’t and neither liked the idea Dick coming to her apartment. Then, of course, Dick had insisted on meeting in public. He’d voiced concern about Jason shooting him. As if the acrobat would be worth the bullet; besides, his guns were locked up in the apartment. “Heh,” he chuckled to himself, breaking a corner piece off the scone and popping it in his mouth.

If nothing else, he could sit there and people watch ‘til Dick bothered to show up. Something he hadn’t really done during daylight hours since returning to Gotham-Bludhaven let alone the States. Not unless he’d been tracking some of Black Mask’s men, or the Joker’s, or otherwise trying to sort out his plan when he’d come home. None of it had been what he was doing now. This was for fun.

Watching the table nearest the door. The woman checking her phone periodically, seated alone and fidgeting with the seam of her cup’s sleeve. He noted glee that lit up her face when her partner walked through the door of the cafe; reminding him of a time when he was happier, younger, less world weary. The woman’s partner, girlfriend, enveloped her in her arms and peppered her with smiling kisses. It was a gesture he recognized. Something he’d done a lifetime ago and their overall elation was both visually loud and familiar.

It was how he’d felt when he became Robin all those years ago. How he’d felt when Bruce revealed he’d adopted him. A shudder ran down his back – not from the iced beverage collected from the order counter. He didn’t want Bruce to hold a happy place in his memories. Not now, after everything that had happened.

Scanning the room in search of distraction his eyes settled on a young man. A text book open on his table, furiously scribbling on a tablet. Jason could hear the soft tapping and swiping noises as the youth wrote, despite the popping sound his jaw made as he worked on the over sized scone in hand. He could see the title of the book from his seat: Gotham: A Study of Engineering. They’d had to break a dozen or so rules building the elite of the two river cities. Even before becoming a Robin he’d spent enough of his life crawling through the cities guts to know the kid wasn’t going to get the full story in that book. Not that he could tell him any of that, of course. There were too many safe houses and supply caches tucked into the bones of Gotham to risk it, even if he’d been of a mind to do so.

His phone buzzed, violently.

It broke his focus and, with the huff of a toddler, he fished the device out of his jacket’s interior slip pocket. Swiping his thumb across the screen and unlocking the device, the messaging app popped open automatically. A quick tap and the thread he had with Amy replaced it. Just got to the Manor. Text you when I leave.

Ok, he typed back..

Almost as quickly as his response went out the words “Be nice to DG.” showed up under his single word. “Hah,” he chuckled, “I’m always nice.” He sent a thumbs up emoji to her instead.

“No you’re not,” the acrobat shook his head. As per usual, he was popping up out of nowhere and doing it more frequently than Batman. Despite being almost twice as loud. At least Jason had the decency to not surprise his friends, especially those who could put him in the hospital.

Glaring, Jason rocked up out of his chair. Comfortable as he was, they couldn’t actually have their meeting next to the baristas. “Says you,” he grumbled, brow cocked, “This way.”

“See, this is exactly what I meant,” Dick observed, a grin on his face that was probably attracting half the single women in Bludhaven. He had that kind of optimistic magnetism even when he didn’t mean to.

He followed Jason through the growing throng of patrons to a table against the wall. It was positioned so they wouldn’t be visible from the window but could also easily guard the transcripts and any other relevant documents. All currently tucked neatly in Dick’s gray and blue computer bag. Either of their apartments would have been infinitely better but he had his orders. “So where’s little bird,” Dick asked, startling Jason – though the Red Hood buried it behind a swig of his coffee.

Pulling their chairs out in near unison, Jason shrugged. “Had an errand.” The two did their best not to let the metal feet grate across the café’s floor.

“Supply run,” Dick yawed, dropping into his wooden chair. The grimace that briefly graced his features told Jason that that had been a mistake. Either the wooden seat or metal chair back had reminded Dick’s body of some fight, bruise, or pulled anything from patrol and training. It was a sensation that Jason was intimately familiar with. Pushing the other half of his scone across the table as a peace offering, he nodded. Both in agreement and a sign that the food was fair game.

Anyone who walked past the pair, papers spread out between them, would assume two things: First, that they were brothers – despite looking similar only in the broadest of senses. Both boys had dark, nearly black, hair and deep blue eyes. They were both athletic and their faces had similar, again general, shapes. Overall, Dick had a much lighter look to him whereas Jason was far more dour. It wouldn’t have been an incorrect assumption, given that Bruce has adopted both of them during their respective childhoods.

Second, thanks to their hushed tones and body languages, that whatever they were doing with all those papers and Dick’s laptop was family business. What that meant to an onlooker could be up for debate, however. Again, the other baristas and casual observers wouldn’t have been wrong. “Where do you want to start,” Jason asked as his brother slid the stack of papers off of his laptop and across the table.

“You go through that pile and give me whatever looks relevant. I’ll add it to the file I’m building here,” he tapped the computer’s lid, “and we go from there. Otherwise, you going to tell me what’s going on?”

One brow raised, Jason shot back, “huh?”

“I know what Bruce said happened in Gotham. I know what the news said happened. I want to hear it from you and then I want to know why you came to Bludhaven. You’ve been here over a month, so yea,” Dick explained, drumming his fingers across the mouse’s touch pad. The computer thrummed to life a moment later and, without breaking eye contact, he typed in the requisite passwords. “Well?”

Snorting and rolling his eyes, Jason took a long drag on his coffee. The cold stimulant buying him time to formulate a polite, or at least less snarky, answer. He could do it. He could be nice to his brother. In theory at least, if not in practice. Before he could speak. Dick added one more caveat, “And not the G-rated version I’m sure you gave Amy either. Full disclosure.”

Jason glared hard over the rim of his cup-lid. Brows knit together, eyes narrowed, and an irritated growl vibrated from his throat. He didn’t want to give more than the G-rated, maybe PG, version of events in Gotham. That meant admitting, to people he actually liked, the extent of what he’d done. At the time things like dismembering drug cartel lieutenants had made complete sense. That using an RPG to push Black Mask over the edge and into unleashing Joker, all so Jason could get his hands on the clown, had been rational. Reasonable even. Now…he wasn’t so sure.

He still wholeheartedly believed that some criminals just needed to die. At the very least have their faces smashed in so badly their own mother’s wouldn’t recognize them. Also things he’d done during his return tour of Gotham. Nothing he’d done since coming to Bludhaven. It had a higher crime rate than Gotham, though most of that was organized crime and gangs instead of super villains – Penguin and Two-Face notwithstanding. He shrugged, finally setting his coffee down “Why do you care,” he demanded as Dick broke a piece off of the shared scone.

“You’re family. Look, didn’t show up after our fight on the roof because I knew you wouldn’t give me reason to come hunt your ass down,” He paused, blue eyes wavering for a moment. One that he covered for by flicking them down to the computer screen.

Snorting derisively, Jason looked down at the papers. The words were just a jumble of letters to him. “I came to Bludhaven to think. “ He sounded contemplative and, to a lesser extent, defeated. Giving voice to his reasons seemed to take all his bravado away, “I hacked the Batcave’s computer before I left, even before I went after Joker. So I knew, by the time I shot that RPG at Black Mask’s office, that Amy’d left Gotham and ended up here. Figured if I survived what happened with Bruce then I’d go to her. Of course I thought he might actually shoot Joker and not pull that bull shit with the gun. Those burns, on top of all the contusions from digging myself out from under that building, SUCKED. So when my plans literally blew up in my face…I had nothing. No idea what I wanted to do. I mean, I took care of a couple loose related Black Mask helping the Joker escape Arkham, but otherwise I was gone. A ghost. Far as the world knows, Jason Todd died…six years ago now.”

“And what happened in Gotham before the shit in Crime Alley,” Dick asked, again. He couldn’t say that, if things had been reversed and he’d been killed by Joker, that he wouldn’t have been as revenge bent as Jason. One of the baristas called another patron’s name, a subtle reminder among the screaming milk steamers, chattering locals, and coffee-shop music that they were in public. That discretion was still the better part of valor. Or in their case, survival.

“What you heard about? What Bruce and the news said? Yea…that was me,” he sighed. “I did some worse shit than was reported; some of it I’m starting to regret. So I don’t really want to discuss it in detail. Ever.” There was a note of guilt, or shame, coloring the fringes of his otherwise stern tone. Searching his face, Dick could tell that he wasn’t going to get the lengthy explanation out of his brother that he wanted. Not without it ending in a fight.

Skeptically, Dick pressured slightly, “And does she know?”

Jason nodded slowly, cheeks visibly redder. “She knows enough,” he muttered, even Dick had trouble hearing him. The more he was asked, the less comfortable he became and suddenly Jason felt like he was being scolded by Alfred; not sitting across from the closest person he’d ever had to a brother. Sure, they’d come to blows growing up – what siblings didn’t – but they’d also always had one another’s backs.

“Okay. So what are you gonna do about it,” Dick asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“What are you doing about yourself? About Amy?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean, I hadn’t even planned that far,” Jason shrugged, eyes finally focusing on the paper before him. The letters going from a hodgepodge pile of sticks and circles to actual words. “Farthest I’ve gotten is helping you guys with this,” he tapped the top page. It was an email between Falcone and Black Mask, supposedly encrypted. Until Oracle had gotten a hold of it. “After that…I don’t know.”

Dick groaned, struggling to keep his voice down and his tone calm, “Dude. You’re living with her. You can’t tell me you haven’t been –“

“I’m sleeping on her couch. The closest I’ve gotten to her, beyond some middle school hugs and pecks on the cheek was when I got shot. That’s also the last time we had any sort of conversation about…us. Or what passed for us before I…” he trailed off, voice low. He was hesitant to say that he’d died. It was something done automatically, nonchalantly when in his Red Hood gear. But out in public, without the protection of his helmet and body armor, he felt like an over exposed nerve. “Yea, we had a moment when I first showed up but…I don’t know. I just don’t.”

Dick opened his mouth to say something, then immediately thought better of it. Neither his younger brother nor his partner had been very good at the whole courtship thing. It had taken both Barb and Alfred intervening to convince them to take the plunge before Joker got his hands on Jason. That had been what, six months during their senior year of high school? For both Amy and Jason it was a lifetime ago, all things considered. Swallowing he finally found a string of words that didn’t make him sound like a complete jerk, “Give her time. I know how much she cares about you, and you clearly still care about her.” Jason looked up, almost plaintively, “You know what I mean.”

Alfred set the kettle down between them, the green and white knit cozy brighter than either he or Amy remembered it being. Though against the stark colors and layout of the Batcave, even khaki was practically neon. “How are you handling Master Todd’s return,” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the entire property when they’d gone down to the cave.

Breathily she laughed, “Not well Alfred. Not well at all.” He nodded; she continued, eyes tracing the lines of steam that escaped her tea cup, “I always thought if, by some miracle, he returned that it’d be easy. Same as breathing. But…” Her brow furrowed briefly and it almost looked as if she was going to cry. “It’s not. We’re both falling over ourselves to be nice and friendly. It’s…”

“Awkward,” he offered. She nodded in turn.

She swallowed, hands wrapping around the cup more tightly. This was part of their ritual: Once a month Amy made the trip to the Manor with the intention of spending the day, part of it at least, with Alfred. He’d suffered in silence after Jason’s death where the others had raged. Even when it was futile. Part of that meant he sent her back to Bludhaven with a number of first aid kits, even if she and Dick didn’t need them. This time, her Supply Run would include some new armor for Jason to replace the ruined pants he’d been shot in. A project the Briton had undertaken without Bruce’s knowledge or permission. They were as much his children as they were Bruce’s.

“Miss Flynn,” he began, a grandfatherly smile on his face, “You and Master Todd were thick as thieves, one another’s shadows. That’s not a bond which can be easily erased, no matter what has transpired or how much time has passed.”

The tea was hot, not scalding, but still hot enough to hurt when she took a sip. There was a time when that had been point; she’d at least felt something as it burned the length of her esophagus. Now, it was just careless. “Mmm. And we are still.…in the field. There it’s like nothing’s changed, no time’s passed. In private…ah…um...the most familiar we’ve been was when he was shot a few weeks back. Don’t know that either of us even knows how to have that conversation. I bloody well don’t,” she chattered, running her burnt tongue across her front teeth.

“You must find a way or it will, inevitably, spill over into your work in the field I fear,” Alfred cautioned, sliding a small cup of ice across the table to the young woman. He’d known her well enough and watched her grief long enough to realize that she’d burned the inside of her mouth. “You both deserve better than that.” He was tired of seeing the children he cared for, the closest he had to children and grandchildren, as spent and used as they had been the last few years. Tired of watching them walk this world in varying degrees of anguish.

Letting out a soft sigh he continued, “You will find a way Miss Flynn, you and Master Todd both. Cliche and motherly though it may sound, perhaps it is best to let your heart lead when your head is not up to task?” That at least elicited a contemplative nod from the Irish girl as she popped one of the offered ice cubes in her mouth.

“C’mere,” Dick instructed. His back was to a wall, protecting the computer screen from the outside world. Exhausted and sore Jason practically creaked when he stood. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting in these godawful chairs but it had been at least long enough to make even his ass go numb. “This is…not good,” the older vigilante muttered.

Almost as soon as his eyes leveled with the images and data on the screen, Jason’s stomach dropped. “Not good is an understatement,” his tone was flat, almost emotionless. Black Mask wasn’t just partnering with Falcone and Maroni to expand their enterprises in Bludhaven. He – They – had hired an assassin form the League of Assassins to deal with what they called their vermin infestation. A man the files referred to Deathstroke; a man whose reputation was infamous The three vigilantes were, with particular emphasis on Red Hood, to be terminated with extreme prejudice. His hire had been arranged by the Intermediary, about whom almost nothing was listed beyond what turned out to be an anonymous dark web bank account.

Reading all of that, following the path of Black Mask’s decisions on paper made Jason want to vomit. “We need to go,” he whispered, finally finding his voice again. They had to warn Amy, or at least bring her up to speed. More importantly they needed to prepare for the veritable war heading their way.

His phone vibrated across the table. Reaching for it, Jason caught it with his fingertips before it could take a nose-dive towards the floor. On the notifications tab, a message from the their absent third beamed at him Leaving for the apt. Text you when I get in. He sent a thumbs up back, swallowing hard. Since Ra’s had been responsible for Jason’s resurrection, it stood to reason that other, maybe all, members of the League knew the identities of Batman and his allies. Though Jason really hoped only Bruce, Dick, and himself were compromised. If they weren’t, things were about to become significantly more complicated.

“I’ll talk to Oracle. See if there’s anything she can dig up on Deathstroke or this Intermediary,” Dick was hesitant to ask her for this kind of help. The more he pulled Barbara into this situation, the more help she gave them, meant that more of a target had been painted on her as well. Where the League was concerned, they could never really be sure it wouldn’t all blow up in their faces. “You get Amy up to speed,” he said.

Jason swallowed, nodding. He was looking at his phone screen, suddenly the message he was typing out for Amy seemed less important. A long slow breath escaped him as he deleted the frantic words, a question about dinner. One he’d started as a way to burn off nervous energy. Instead he wrote, Meet you there Irish. Ride safe. Please. Without a second though he brushed his thumb over the send button. “I have a couple contacts I can talk to as well. Will take me some time to track ‘em down.”

“Do it, and no killing,” Dick warned. All kindness gone from his voice. “We have to be better than these guys.”

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x oc #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #nightwing #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #dcu imagine #dc comics imagine

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betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years

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Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#190-181)

#190: Kaliopi -- Crno i Belo (North Macedonia 2012)

“Отвори душа признај ми, Што сме сега јас и ти, Пола мое во тебе, А пола твое спие во мене,”

“Open your soul and admit to me, What we are now, you and me Half of me is in you And half of you is sleeping in me”

Kaliopi was supposed to be (North) Macedonia's first entrant in the 1996 with the song Samo Ti, but an audio-only pre-qualifying round ended up preventing her from doing so. Whereas Samo ti is a calming, R&B influenced song, Crno i belo is an alternative rock song which takes a number of twists.

Crno I Belo starts slowly, but it really picks up from the second verse onwards as it transforms into a rock song. There’s a sense of confrontation with the lyrics, which the music also tries to convey. And I don’t need to say much about Kaliopi’s vocals—a bit harsh, but awesome. And that scream is nothing but penetrating.

Personal ranking: 4th/42 Actual ranking: 13th/26 GF in Baku

#189: Måns Zelmerlöw - Heroes (Sweden 2015)

"Now go sing it like a hummingbird The greatest anthem ever heard"

I know there was a bit of flack of Sweden's most recent win, because they won primarily because of the jury (they were third in the televote). Compared to "Grand Amore", which comfortably won the televote but only gotten sixth with the juries, which was a pretty bad mismatch.

In addition, compared to the other fan-favorites of the class of 2015, Heroes is a more mainstream-sounding pop song, with influences from "Lovers from the Sun" and the highly produced Swedish-pop scene. But when I listen to it, it's very engaging and surprisingly danceable, with a great message of strength and togetherness. And the staging was quite slick and creative (with a bunch of influence on some of those from the following year)

So while Heroes is not my personal favorite of 2015, it's still a compelling and awesome pop song. Six years later, it's holds up fantastically.

Personal ranking: 7th/40 Actual ranking: 1st/27 GF in Vienna

#188: Elitsa Todorova & Stoyan Yankoulov -- Water (Bulgaria 2007)

"Море, Митра пее на реката Митре ле, ий… Митре ле"

"Lo, Mitra sings by the river Oh Mitra, eeh.. oh Mitra"

I have the strange impression that Bulgaria has a trance music scene we don't know of. From Elitsa and Stoyan's two appearances to the lyrics of Stanga being taken from a Bulgarian folk song, it's something that was not in focus in the rest of the world.

That said, Bulgaria's only qualifying song prior to 2016 is an experience to behold. While the lyrics are simply about Mitra meeting a lad riding a horse, the soundscape feels like you're in the surreal place yourself. You are in a rush against time, but you're also on a journey towards...somewhere.

Both the music and drumming really amplify the experience; seeing Elitsa and Stoyan drum together was a highlight for me. And while there are questions about Elitsa's vocals, including a point where she goes off-key, she still provides the necessary tone for this intriguing song.

Personal ranking: 4th/42 Actual ranking: 5th/24 GF in Helsinki

#187: Tose Proeski -- Life (North Macedonia 2004)

“Life is a book and you gotta read it Life is a story and you gotta tell it Life is a song and you gotta sing it You've got to know how to live it.”

For some curious reason, I prefer the English-version of this song to the Macedonian language one. Whereas this one, performed from Eurovision, focuses on the angst of existence and the importance of making the most of it, "Angel si ti" is an ode towards a lover who lines his streets with roses and even turns back time.

That's one of the things which work here that really shouldn’t. The mid-2000s sound, the lyrics, and the sheer angst of it. But for some reason, I really enjoy it. Tose (RIP) sings this really well, and it feels like a song out of a musical, in a scene where the protagonist cannot decide what they want to do with their life. It's awesome and I love this lots (and please, put this in a hypothetical Eurovision jukebox musical--there's so much plot potential!)

Personal ranking: 6th/36 Actual ranking: 14th/24 GF in Istanbul

#186: Lisa Andreas -- Stronger Every Minute (Cyprus 2004)

“My love grows stronger every minute And it won’t ever die You must believe I’ll always be there For you, all my life”

Greece and Cyprus are basically sisters in the contest--you can almost always expect them to give votes to each other considering the circumstances. However, their combined quality frequently varies, as well as results. 2004 was their best results year, though not necessarily their best in terms of songs (you'll get that later, towards the end)

At fifth place, Stronger Every Minute shared the best Cypriot entry ever with two other entries (one of which is #239, another coming soon) until 2018. This time, it comes in the form of a delicate love song, performed so tenderly and serenely by Lisa. Despite her looks making her look older than sixteen, she conveys a sense of innocence, helped by the glockenspiel and the acoustic guitar throughout.

I love how sincere she sings this “love letter”, as one blogger put it--I hope everyone can feel a love like this! A pure oasis in the flash and chaos of the 100% televote era.

Personal ranking: 5th/36 Actual ranking: =5th/24 GF (with Sweden) in Istanbul

#185: Paloma San Basilio -- La fiesta terminó (Spain 1985)

“La fiesta terminó Ya no hay más que niebla entre tú y yo ¿Para qué echar más leña arder Si el fuego se ha apagado ya?”

“The party’s over There’s only a fog between you and me Why throwing more wood to burn When the fire is already dull?"

Juan Carlos Calderon and Paloma San Basilio are really well known in their fields --the former is a noted songwriter who already wrote one of the biggest hits in Latin America, whereas the latter is a noted singer and theater actress who would win a Latin Grammy and play Evita.

Together, they have this really nice power ballad, albeit one with a bit of melancholy in it. The lyrics are the strong part of this piece, telling of a relationship that has come to an end using the party as a metaphor for it. It works very well, especially with Paloma's warm voice and the way she emotes the song through her hand gestures.

The resulting package is quite sad, yet very, very beautiful. Unfortunately, it didn't get the result it deserved (which maybe because of that backing vocalist picking at his nose...).

Personal ranking: 2nd/19 Actual ranking: 14th/19 in Gothenburg

#184: Sakis Rouvas -- Shake It (Greece 2004)

“I would trade my life for a night with you Driven by desire”

(Yes, this is already the third song from 2004 to appear in this section. haha. The first two that appeared here are fighting for my fifth, whereas the top four here is the exact same top four of that year.)

The first of the Greek Golden Era, we get Sakis Rouvas in all his glory. This was a hit when it was first released, and it at one point was the highest selling single of all-time in Greece. And as of 2021, it's still the highest-scoring Greek entry, despite them winning the following year.

While his regular discography doesn’t usually feature Greek elements, as he's better known for popularizing pop and rock influences in Greek music, I still think the bouzouki riffs do a good job here adding to this bop (the composer is Nikos Terzis--remember this name).

It's a dancefloor banger which I keep on repeat, and it seems that people across the continent have done so too! Especially those from Turkey. The performance is also quite fun, albeit with some...curious choreography (e.g. 1:42-1:46). That said, we also get some of Sakis' athleticism, thanks to him doing track when he was younger.

Personal ranking: 4th/36 Actual ranking: 3rd/24 GF in Istanbul

#183: Claude Lombard -- Quand tu Reviendras (Belgium 1968)

"Passent les semaines, se traînent les jours Et moi, j’attends ton retour En filant la laine dans mes beaux atours En bordant ma peine de doux fils d’amour"

"Weeks passing by, the days are lingering And I’m waiting for your return Spinning the wool in my beautiful finery Embroidering my pain in soft threads of love"

A couple of commenters compared to a Kate Bush song, and I think it comes down to Claude’s voice, which is very ethereal. However, Claude's voice has some depth, which, in comparison to Kate Bush's earlier work, is a bit more mature.

As for the song, it’s very folkloric but tragic, in which she yearns for the day her lover comes back. The use of strings helps in that it establishes a medieval ambience to it, but the overall feeling is still timeless. It’s almost as if one is caught into the story and wept along with her.

I especially love this because it stood out amongst the class of 1968--while most of the other songs has a happy-go-lucky vibe, Quand tu Reviendras goes in the opposite direction. Same with my runner-up.

Personal ranking: 1st/17 Actual ranking: =7th/17 (with Monaco and Yugoslavia) in London

#182: Doris Dragović - Marija Magdalena (Croatia 1999)

Maria Magdalena, gib mir deine Macht Für immer und nicht nur für eine Nacht

“Svjedok mi Bog, srca mi mog, Ova žena zna, da ti pripada sva...”

“As God is my witness, I swear by my heart, That this woman knows, she belongs to you entirely...”

(The first few lyrics were from the first Maria Magdalena from Austria, haha. Just wanted to mess with you. :) )

The second Marija Magdalena is a beloved entry in the fandom, and for good reason! It hasn’t aged since 1999, which shone amongst the relatively dull field with its mix of ethnic and dance music. Lyrically, it focuses on a love that redeems the narrator, hence the imagery related to Marija Magdalena (yay, religious imagery and redemption!). I think it works efficiently, and Doris performs well on stage with her powerful vocals and diva-like presence. Arguably, it's argued that it was the best song of 1999.

The only problem I have is with the backing vocals on the instrumental. The delegation cheated, and that’s the end of it. I’m still wondering why people would put this as their favorite of 1999 otherwise; even with the new rule about allowing them on the track. It puts me on edge on what would've happened had they won.

Beautiful song, but cheaters don't prosper in my book.

Personal ranking: 3rd/23 Actual ranking: 4th/23 in Jerusalem

#181: Evelin Samuel & Camille - Diamond of Night (Estonia 1999)

“Diamond of night, burning so bright Guide me my silvery new sign”

The last Eurovision song of the twentieth century is filled with mystical imagery, atmospheric instrumentation, and a beautiful violin solo. The whole thing reminds me of a fairytale, with a cool soundscape, though sometimes I feel like something is lacking in it (especially because it resembles some entries from the 1996 contest; I was thinking of I evighet when writing this)

The lyrics are especially pertinent for Evelin Samuel (the singer), who tried to get to Eurovision throughout the entire 1990s. She was about to go as one half of the Estonian duo from 1996, when she suddenly got a tour in Japan, which was then canceled. She managed to become a backing vocalist in 1997, and finally got her chance here. Seeing her sing "now i can say it's my time" is very touching, even if her eyes seem to be bulging out!

In the end, it's a peaceful and serene song, with hope for the new millenium. However, considering what the first song of Eurovision 2000 would be, little did one know it won't always start on the right foot...

Personal ranking: 2nd/23 Actual ranking: 6th/23 in Jerusalem

#eurovision song contest #esc 250 #esc top 250 #esc north macedonia #esc sweden #esc bulgaria #esc cyprus #esc spain #esc greece #esc belgium #esc croatia #esc estonia #vintage eurovision #three minutes to eternity

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