#although it's mostly used for costume and prop storage

[tildexart]

The Magnus Archives (Season One) Production Design Project

Hello everyone! Let me introduce myself- I'm Tilda (or Tilde), and I'm want to be a production designer.

Production designers create the overall look of a piece of media. From costumes, lighting, environments, props, etc., these designers make sure that everything looks cohesive and sets the mood.

So, I thought it would be fun to put my skills to the test by designing season one of The Magnus Archives. My winter break started as soon as I became interested in the show. Needless to say, a new obsession and an abundance of free time go well together.

You may have seen these illustrations posted separately, this is a master post of the whole project. My thoughts, processes, and critiques are all included under the cut. If you read them, I hope you enjoy! If, not, thank you for supporting my work regardless.

The Characters

When designing these characters, I tried to avoid being influenced by fan interpretations. Though, that was a challenge (especially with Jon and Sasha). I found that I looked to my friends for inspiration. Certain elements (Jon's glasses) were based off of what they wore.

Pinterest was also useful for finding clothing and pose references. Some looks were based off of different actors- in particular, Tim was inspired by Nicholas Galitzine and Elias inspired by Matthew Lillard.

Jane was the most fun to design! I believe in making terrifying characters actually terrifying.

Elias's design needs the most work. Having now finished the show, I see that it doesn't fit him. The purple is overly saturated, especially compared to the set. He looks out of place! I'd reverse the color palette to mostly green/yellow with purple accents instead. Although, I will forever defend the purple tint in his gray hair.

The Set

Jonathan's office was a treat to design! Balancing the color and clutter was especially important. This room is meant to be claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but not overbearingly so.

The wood looks to be full of splinters, but not so worn that it can be thrown out. The chairs offer no back support, and the shelves make the room smaller. The goal was to represented Jon's mind. Intricate, messy, and suffocating (Note: that is more of a season two description).

One goal was to capture the look of an actual archive. Valuable times was spent researching the different kinds of storage, files, paper, etc. The texture and color had to be accurate.

A split-complementary color palette of blue-green, yellow-green, and red was used. Of course, I had to get green in there, and the varying hues and desaturated reds worked well for the wood and filing supplies.

Jane's ashes and the Web lighter on the desk place this set at the end of season one. I find details like this to be important, it's one of my favorite parts of design. There is much needed abundance of eye imagery as well. Most obviously in the carpet, but eyes are carved into the table and watch from the shelves.

My main critique is the lighting- the filters used could be adjusted as to not distort the colors of the boxes. They look inconsistent. The Web lighter could also be more obvious, yet it is small and pixelated.

The Props

I designed these as I re-listened to season one, and it is the most recent piece I finished. Combining the details described in the show with what the objects would have realistically looked like was interesting. That was most useful for the clown, the Ming vase, and Ex Altiora.

Each of these objects came from a specific time with a specific look. Ex Altiora was bound in calf leather from the 1800s, so those books were referenced. Same with the frills on the clown's outfit.

The Ming vase was especially interesting, as it is from the Jiajing period. When looking at photographs of Jiajing vases, I found that many of them lacked handles and had an hourglass shape. That was fascinating to me, as many artists depict a standard oval-shaped vase. Also, the vase's design is described as straight lines that create distorted patterns when looking at it. That effect was achieved using chromatic aberration and the liquify tool (chromatic aberration was used to create a vertigo effect on Ex Altiora).

My critiques are... nitpicky. minimal. The shading on top of the garbage bag is unnatural. The thickness of the gold engraving on Ex Altiora is uneven. The "I" in "Immediate Consideration" is not capitalized. Other than that, I'm happy with how the props look.

Conclusion

First off, if you read everything, thank you!! It is a lot, I know.

My greatest takeaways are that 1) ask for critique, always 2) research skills are necessary for design 3) references are your friend! Seriously guys, use your references.

I hope you enjoyed this project and I'm excited to share more of my work in the future!

#and before anyone asks #i am not doing this for any other season #feel free to ask any questions about this project! #tma #the magnus archives #tma season one #production design #tildexart #tilda rambles

[wilfofficial]

📁 📁 📁 📁

Audrey has a decent collection of antique to vintage firearms in mostly working order. She favors ornately decorated flint/wheel locks but has several more recent presentation revolvers and Mausers. She just thinks they're neat.

She also has a collection of vintage sci-fi media and memorabilia. Godzilla toys, a wind-up Robby the Robot, signed editions of The Illustrated Man, Dune and I, Robot, loads of signed pictures and production stills, animations cels from Akira, the og Ghost in the Shell, Nausicaa, all kinds of stuff. The crown jewel in her opinion is a costume piece from Metropolis although a prop gun from the Flash Gordon serial is a close second.

She used to keep a Swiss vault for this and other crap she's collected over the years but most of it now lives in a storage shed on her and Han's property.

She does not save physical mementos from Luna's development no matter how much as she would like to, given how easily they could be used against her if they were to fall into the wrong hands.

#headcanons #writing this was like running a marathon jfc #youre so mean to me 💔

[frankensteins-mt-dew]

I had a dream last night that I ran a cinderbrush type game  for some Critical role cast members and a few of my friends, but it was based around my old high school. And now I really want to write one, cuz my high school was built in the 60′s, so it has a bomb shelter. Secret meeting place, stranger things-esque lab, portal to another dimension? the possibilities are endless

#although it's mostly used for costume and prop storage #and the school got completely redone this year #oh well #critical role #cinderbrush #rpg #dnd inspo

[funkymeihem-fiction]

He Don’t Mean It -Chapter 1

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11563764

Roadhog suffers from PTSD and violent rages, Junkrat tries to keep it a secret from the others, Zarya distrusts the both of them, and Mei learns some hard lessons.

(Inspired by an old fanart of Junkrat trying to calm an angry Hog that I unfortunately cannot find anymore. I’m trying something a little different from the usual. I know it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but let me know what you think.)

It had gotten late, at some point. There was still activity going on in some areas of the main base, but mostly the buildings and windows were dark and quiet save for the occasional whir of a passing cleaning bot. Across from the base, far across the docking bay, a dark practice field, and a testing ground surrounded by barbed wire and KEEP OUT signs, the garage buildings belonging to the junkers were lit up on the inside, the flashing blue of the television seen from the windows, and the familiar shriek of Junkrat’s wild laughter sounding from within. They were watching some game show from Japan, which Junkrat had been completely hooked on ever since Genji had turned one on in the common room. It depicted its unlucky participants having to answer questions or perform challenges, and although Mei was fairly sure Junkrat wasn’t even reading the English translations, he laughed uproariously whenever one of them failed. The price of failure was severe and included frying pans being dropped onto heads, blow darts in the rear, pies smashed into the face, and (Junkrat’s particular favorite) being hit in the testicles by a cartoon glove on a stick, wielded by a man dressed in a pig costume. He had already been reduced to hyperventilation several times that evening, and Mei had to hit pause multiple times to allow him to recover. Roadhog sat in his chair, arms folded over his immense belly and occasionally rumbling his deep “Huh-huh-huh-huh…” chuckle or pointing to the screen. It seemed he also enjoyed the man in the pig outfit. Mei lay wrapped in a blanket on the ragged sofa, head resting on Junkrat’s thigh. She wasn’t as taken by the slapstick as her companions, but the absolute bizarre situations they put their contestants in amused her more than it should have. And she was fairly sure that if she was on such a game show, she would have won the contest of trying to hold the most noodles in her cheeks, hands down. But it was getting late, and Junkrat finally took notice of her little glances towards the door as she started to unwrap herself. He reacted as dramatically as ever, winding his good arm around her and pulling her back into his lap. “Noooooo!” She sighed. “Jamison, it’s almost one in the morning.” “Exactly! S’dark out there! Who knows what might be lurking out in the dark, ya know? And you’re what, at least ten kilometers from the dorms? A hundred? Probably more. I can’t let ya go out there, darl, for your own safety.” He wrapped her up in his boa constrictor like grip, even as she sat with her face slightly smushed on one side and her eyes half lidded. “Come on, might as well stay the night.”

She hesitated. The junkers’ makeshift dorm areas weren’t exactly what she was used to, and she’d only spent a few nights here before. They mostly lived in out of the converted storage garage that Roadhog had commandeered upon arrival. In her mind, it still looked more garage than house, and even though they had a couch and television and even a little makeshift kitchen, Hog’s motorcycle and a veritable warehouse full of tools and scrap parts sat just behind them on the other side of the main room. Junkrat’s room was literally a windowless spare supply closet that they’d shoved a bed and dresser in for the nights he didn’t sleep in his trailer, and she had no idea what lay beyond Roadhog’s bedroom door…not to mention, there was the memory of the first time she’d ever walked into their bathroom that still gave her nightmares… Junkrat nuzzled himself adoringly against her bun, taking no notice of her hesitation, nor her snowflake pin jabbing him in the forehead. “We can head right on t’bed if you’re tired, and then you can rack off during proper morning, eh? Maybe after brekkie? Whaddayasay?” “Well…Is that okay, Mr. Roadhog?” Roadhog was already lifting himself out of the sagging armchair, hiking up his pajama pants. He turned his masked face briefly to Mei, then tilted it very slightly to the side, half lifting one enormous shoulder. “Mm,” was all he said, and Junkrat lit up at what must have been a relatively enthusiastic approval. The giant junker nodded to them both, then turned and lumbered slowly towards his room, the door shutting gently behind him a moment later. Mei nodded and relented, and went about prying Junkrat’s arms from her once more. “All right, all right. But I’ll need to head back early tomorrow morning. And if you start kicking, I’m moving to the couch again.” “I’ll be on me best behavior!” She turned off the gameshow, yawning widely as she trailed Junkrat’s limping gait towards his tiny sleeping quarters. He quickly shoved a pile of blankets into some semblance of order, offering her the cleanest ones, before sitting down on the squeaky mattress and prying off his mechanical arm and peg leg, tossing them carelessly onto the floor nearby. Still, even with one working leg, he managed to leap into the air and came down on the bed with force, his lanky body landing on one side with his head propped up on one arm, waggling his brows. “Ya knoooow, we coooould…” She smirked at him, setting her glasses aside. “No, I’m tired. Not even the pose is going to work right now.” “Aw.” She climbed in after him, ignoring his grumbling and pulling herself up to nestle into the warmth of him. She’d probably wake up overheated later, but there was nothing better for falling asleep than the furnace that was his body. His grouching finally ceased as he pulled her up against his chest, breathing in the scent of her hair as his scorched lashes fluttered shut and his breathing became deep, and it was not long before the both of them drifted off together.

***

It wasn’t the heat that woke her up, but a loud clanking noise she heard somewhere either in her dreams or outside the door. She moaned a little and pulled herself away, her body clammy and a bit sweaty where she had been pressed against the slumbering Junkrat. She needed water, nice cold water, and staggered up off the bed to grab her glasses, quietly opening the door to make her way to the sink. But something made her pause. The living room was dimly lit by a single sputtering bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. And over on the other side of the work area, stood the slightly blurry, familiar figure of Roadhog. It couldn’t have been anyone else but him, anyway. He was over seven feet of imposing fat and muscle, and for some reason he was just…standing there…fully armored and clothed in the middle of the night, with his back to her and head slightly bowed. She sat lingering in the open doorway, rubbing at her eyes behind her lenses. Her brain was still foggy from slumber, but something about all this seemed off. He hadn’t taken notice of her yet, and didn’t seem to be working late or doing much of anything. Just…standing in the dark? What was happening? She stood there as well, frozen and unsure of what to do. Maybe it was just the remnant of a bad dream, but there was an unpleasant prickling under her skin, some instinct started to nip and bite at her senses. Something seemed wrong. Licking her dry lips, she took a step forward. Roadhog still loomed before one of the windows, though she couldn’t tell if he was looking out. Starting to lift a cautious hand, she exhaled a breathless little noise before starting to offer a soft “M-Mr? Ro-” She saw Roadhog’s head move slightly, barely starting to tilt back towards her. But then there was suddenly cold metal clamping across her face, digging almost painfully into her jaws as it latched over her mouth. She was being dragged backward, taken right off her feet, into the darkness of the room behind her. She didn’t even have time to kick, trying to inhale against the metallic hand as that familiar pair of arms wrapped around her. She wrenched her head to the side and looked up, eyes wide, and could barely make out the features of Junkrat’s face just above hers. He was similarly wide-eyed, irises burning red-yellow and little veins of pink visible against the sclera’s white, bloodshot, above a clenched jaw bared with suddenly very sharp-looking teeth. He slammed the both of them back into the far wall of the tiny dark bedroom, still holding her tightly enough that she realized it hurt, and she made a little muffled noise of confusion and protest. “Mmgmf!? Hmmh!” He slid downward with his hand still clamped over her mouth, watching the open doorway. When she tried to speak, he turned his bared teeth down to her, eyes still blazing and voice a low hiss. “Quiet! No, quiet! Shut up!” She narrowed her gaze, though her brow furrowed soon after. Junkrat had always spoken rather harshly, with liberal use of Australian slang and no small amount of creative cursing. But never, not in all their time together, had he ever spoken harshly to her. But he’d just snarled for her to shut up and looked on the verge of panic. Something was definitely wrong here, no time for hurt feelings now. She twisted a little in his grasp but remained silent, and he finally released her mouth, allowing her to gasp in a quick breath as he warily sidled forward, peeking out of the door before trying to shut it as quietly as possible, wincing at the click of the knob before reaching under his mattress, snapping on a tiny flashlight. She expected an explanation, but merely received a hastily whispered, “Y’need to go.” He was still barely looking at her, leaving her to nurse her bruised jaw as he reached under the bed. “You gotta leave, right now.” “Jamison? What’s happening?” She reached down to touch his shoulder, but was quickly shrugged off. “Jamie, please?” “Nothing! Ya just gotta leave!” he snapped, seeming taking no notice of her distressed expression. He found what he was looking for under his bed, pulling out one of his spiked traps and a length of chain ending in a small metal clasping hook. “I’m gonna open the doors, you get outta here, got it?” “Jamie-” “I said fuck off!” He nearly snarled, turning fully upon her. This time he faltered, as he found Mei staring back at him and even shrinking away, like he was almost about to strike her. His snarl fell into a grimace, panicked gaze turning downcast. “N-no, love, I didn’t mean…I’d never-” They both paused at the sound of heavy footsteps and the jingle of metal outside. Junkrat went abruptly quiet, spreading both arms and placing himself between Mei and the door, teeth baring once more. Harsh words or no, it was clear that he was intent on protecting her from whatever it was that was outside…protecting her from Roadhog? The heavy footfalls thudded away from them, and Mei breathed out, hurrying to pull on her boots. “Jamie, what’s wrong? Did something happen to him?” “No! S’fine, it’s just…you gotta get outta here when you get the chance, understand?” She looked unsure. “Is it Roadhog? Maybe we can get to the door without him noticing? Then we can go get Winston or Angela, maybe they can help-” “I’m staying, you’re leaving. And you don’t tell nobody nothing, hear it?” He tensed, gaze still wary. “This ain’t their business.” “I’m not going to just leave you here with- Would you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He bit his lip, the shadows from the tiny light exaggerating all the worst parts of his strange narrow face, both angry and grief-stricken at once. He made one of his little noises of frustration, a high-pitched rattle he could barely muffle before answering. “Look, sometimes, Hog forgets where he is. Arright?” Mei was silent for a rather long time before whispering, “Forgets? What does that mean?” “I don’t fuckin’ know, Mei! He just forgets where he is and he gets in a bad way! It ain’t his fault!” “What does he…do?” “Nothin’! I said not to fuckin’ worry about it! I’ve got it under control!” There was that anger again flaring its ugly head again, but this time Mei didn’t back down. Things were starting to fall into place. “Does he forget who people are too? Jamison, does he hurt you? That time when you were ‘sick’ for a few days and you came back and were all bruised and hurt…That wasn’t an accident like you said, was it? Was it because-” “It ain't like that! It ain’t his fault! Me and him, we’re mates! Even if he don’t know it sometimes. We've always handled it. I didn't...I'd never let ya over if I'd thought...Usually he acts weird before it. But he always gets himself back to normal, y’just gotta wai-” There were footsteps again, and the both of them went silent as Junkrat clicked off the flashlight. The soft glow coming in under the door flickered softly, a shadow passing in front of it. There was the familiar sound of loud, wheezing breath, grinding through the mechanical air filters of a mask. Once again, Junkrat narrowed his eyes and hunched low in front of Mei, back arching like an anxious cat as the smaller woman peeked out from behind his bony ribcage, both of them locking their focus on the closed door and holding their breath. Junkrat was already moving when Roadhog’s fist tore through the cheap plywood with a loud crash. The door didn’t stand a chance, splintering and cracking as Hog’s immense body followed his fist, stepping through the wreckage as the barrier barely proved an afterthought. Junkrat launched forward in swift retaliation, slamming full force into the larger junker and barely halting his forward momentum. Rat’s smaller chain swung around his partner’s neck and he pulled it taut…but Roadhog barely seemed to notice its choking grip, enormous hand shooting forward to grasp Rat by the entire scrawny torso, squeezing cruelly so that the younger man uttered a painful rasping wheeze as the breath was forced from his crushed lungs, before he was haphazardly tossed over Hog’s shoulder and out of sight into the main room. What was most unnerving was how silent Roadhog was despite his rampage. She distantly heard Junkrat’s snarling and scrambling somewhere behind him, but Roadhog was as quiet as he normally was, save for that filtered breathing of his. He tried to squeeze the rest of the way into the closet-sized room, as Mei pressed herself up against the wall away from him, his thick fingertips nearly brushing her front. Then his hand dropped suddenly, and even his unfathomable weight was pulled backward. The chain was still wrapped around his neck, and Junkrat had thrown the other end around one of the garage’s metal weight-bearing poles. His lanky arms pulled, and the leverage was at least enough to half drag him back out the door. “Hog! Hog, it’s me, mate! Come on, I got ya! We don’t gotta-” Roadhog turned his masked face towards his partner, and Mei could only watch as he lurched after the other junker, the both of them moving out of sight. She heard a crash, saw the chain that had been around his neck go slack, then taut again. And as she finally gathered her wherewithal to react and run for the door, she heard a noise of pain and saw Roadhog grasping onto the chain around his neck and pulling, Junkrat’s grasp on it causing him to stagger forward…directly into Roadhog’s waiting grip. There was a brief wrestling match where Junkrat was a whirlwind of gangly limbs and biting teeth, but he was overpowered within seconds and pinned against the dirty floor, as his bodyguard knelt over him and brought his spiked fist into Rat’s face. “Liú xià tā yīgè rén! Mr. Roadhog, stop! Please, it’s us!” Mei flung herself onto his arm, pulling with all her strength to stop him before the next blow. But she was shaken off with barely a thought, tossed aside and sent staggering. She heard the sickening crunch of another fist against bone, and in desperation, searched for something, anything that she could use. Without Snowball or her endothermic blaster in hand, her fingers curled around the next best thing- a dirty frying pan from the kitchen table, crusted with old stir-fry. She leapt back into the brawl and swung it with all her might, and there was a satisfying clang as it landed broadside against Roadhog’s head. To her relief, it seemed to have stunned him, his fist still raised as he paused. Slowly, he turned his pig-masked face towards her, still kneeling over the bloody and battered younger junker on the ground. She lifted her pan again menacingly. “Get off of him! I’m warning you! Don’t make me do this!” Junkrat coughed up a mouthful of red on the ground, reaching out a hand in warning as Roadhog started to lift off him. “Mei!” Roadhog lunged for her, and Mei swung. She felt the pan hit its mark, and this time, nothing happened. He barely seemed to notice the impact, and before she could recover to swing again…Roadhog’s fist swung too. Pain blossomed in the side of her skull, and it felt like her brain was being broken in two and sloshing like a cracked egg. She was dimly aware that she was airborne, her prone body sailing across the room, and she vaguely thought that she must have been hit with quite severe force to cause it. Her shattered glasses spun in the air after her, little shards of her lenses twinkling merrily in the light. How strange. She had been watching game shows and laughing with this man only hours earlier. And now…this? She didn’t even feel the landing, even when her back slammed into a rack of tools and she went skidding across the floor in a loud metal clatter of wrenches and screws. She lay there, her vision fogged with black around the edges, unable to move. She was dimly aware of someone roaring her name, that Junkrat had managed to rally and was fighting Roadhog once more, though she could only make out a chaotic melee of body parts, and Junkrat snarling and snapping like a rabid thing. But despite his best efforts and true to their namesakes, there was little that a rat could do against an angry swine. He took several punishing blows from all directions before being carelessly pummeled back onto the ground again, and Roadhog leaned down, winding his bloodied fist back once more.

But this time, Junkrat sprang back up. One of his steel traps lay where the younger junker had fallen, and it sprang up and clamped shut on Roadhog’s leg as the larger man bellowed in enraged pain. There was the clank of a steel trap and its chain winding around a nearby pole and she somewhat expected the sound of accompanying explosions, but for once the self proclaimed ‘mad demolitionist’ seemed loath to use them. Rat managed to kick his way out of his errant bodyguard’s range, scurrying over to pluck Mei up and out of the wreckage in the garage, stumbling with her in both arms. Her head spun as she was hauled across the room before being unceremoniously dropped, as the both of them collapsed behind the couch. She could feel herself swaying even when trying to sit. Rat’s face was bruised and bloodied, starting to swell, and she could see he was missing his gold tooth when he spoke. “Don’t be mad! Don’t  be mad at ‘im! He don’t mean it!” Gingerly, she lifted her fingers to her temple that was still radiating with pain, and they too came away red. “We n-need to go…get help…” “No! He’ll come back, always does, I just gotta wait it out and stay outta his way!” His voice was high pitched and desperate,  trying to wipe the blood away from her face with his fingers and only managing to smear it more. “You need to leave, get back safe to your room, arright? And then…Ya can’t tell nobody, arright? It’s gonna be okay. Here, I’ll distract him, you head for the door-” He paused as there was the screech of twisting metal. Roadhog was pulling at his leg in the trap, and it was already starting to give way. “Jamison! He’ll kill you! We have to go!” There was nothing they could do to hope to stand against someone like Hog, and with Mei involved, things had gone even more out of control than usual. Junkrat looked out of his mind, his eyes darting wildly between his frenzied partner and the injured woman. Seemingly coming to a decision, he snatched her up once more, throwing himself forward into a staggering run as he went for the door. “Gotta make sure he don’t get out! You gotta leave! You gotta-” They hadn’t even reached the door when there was another booming noise. And this time, it didn’t come from Roadhog’s rampage. Someone was knocking on the door, and Junkrat nearly fell over as his foot scrabbled for balance and his peg almost went out from under him, still clutching Mei against his chest as he went skidding to a stop. It was loud, clearly someone using their entire fist…and it sounded like a large fist. The sound caused even Hog to pause, lifting his masked head slowly. There was another flurry of angry knocking, so hard that it seemed like the metal itself would start to dent inward, then a muffled voice. “Впусти меня!” Mei’s eyes widened, flailing her way out of Junkrat’s grasp even as he struggled to keep hold of her, sputtering a “What the fuck- Wait! Wait, don’t let ‘em in! Don’t let-” She dropped to the floor, her vision still blurred and colors smearing to one side as she listed dangerously to her left, but managed to dive for the control panel to the main entry. Even as Junkrat leapt after to stop her, she slammed a fist down onto it, as the door beeped and hissed open. A large figure loomed up out of the darkness outside, stepping into the yawning entryway and the dim light within, illuminating the track suit, bright pink hair, and angry features of one extremely displeased Russian woman.

#meihem #meirat #junkmei #zaryahog #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #Zarya #aleksandra zaryanova #overwatch #ptsd #rage #hurt #comfort #fanfiction

[therighteousdingo]

Movie Review: Dawn of the Dead (2004)

It’s that time of year and since I’m doing a rewatching of the original Dawn of the Dead, I figured I might as well bash out a review of the 2004 remake, and I’ve gotta say, no matter what you think of this movie, it was pretty damn scary the first couple times I saw it and once in a while, I rewatch it and remember why it was so frightening to begin with (probably something to do with the sprinting, geez, they were almost unstoppable).

The Basic Facts

Released in 2004 by Universal Pictures and starring Sarah Polley and Ving Rhames.

It was based on the 1978 George A. Romero “Dawn of the Dead” but was actually directed by Zack Snyder, who recently did Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Several throwbacks to the original Dawn of the Dead are present, such as, the setting taking place in a mall and cameos by actors from the original, Tom Savini and Scott Reiniger

The Plot

Its pretty straightforward since its a horror flick but I’ll try and stretch it out. 

Ana is a nurse who heads home one night after a shift and, while having a steamy shower with her boyfriend, misses a bulletin on the news. The next morning, being attacked by a neighbor’s daughter who bites Ana’s husband, infecting him. 

After fleeing the house and driving through the suburb seeing multitudes of gory massacres, corpses being eaten and car wrecks she winds up wrecking in the woods.

A badass intro playing “When the Man Comes Around” By Johnny Cash depicts riots, attacks and other disturbing imagery before returning to the main movieline.

Waking up in the woods to find Police Officer Kenneth, they group up and begin moving down the road eventually gaining Michael (her eventual love interest, although her husband was JUST eaten), Andre and Luda, Andre’s pregnant wife.

Arriving at a mall, they struggle to enter and during this struggle, Luda winds up scratched by a zombie and Kenneth injured, although still clean. However, they run into CJ, Bart and Terry, 3 security guards employed at the mall, who are of course the doofus types who manipulate and jail and the group in a store.

Over time, they move to the roof to survey the outside of the mall and find Andy, the owner of a gun shop across the way, still alive and on top of his roof. They pass time by playing chess in a rather quick-thinking manner, and other borish activities. 

Eventually, a bigger group wind up in driving to the mall in a storage truck, some are sick, most aren’t. A father that is in the newly arrived group with his daughter and, I think mother? turns out to be scratched and sick, so the original group decide he needs to be shot before he kills someone. Struggles ensue when some of the infected attack and the group decides that its no longer time to stay at the mall and must move to the Marina where one of the newly arrived group members has a yacht that can be driven away from the mainland.

Andy, starving, asks for help before they leave, so they strap food to their dog and send it over which works, but lures a zombie in which ultimately bites Andy, infecting him. Nicole, the dog’s owner, drives the storage truck the 2nd group showed up in into the front of Andy’s attempting to get the dog back and succeeds. 

They supe up 2 buses and get loads of ammunition and proceed to blast through the town in order to get to the marina. All the while exploding zombies with propane tanks, being frightening chased down by freakishly fast zombies and even accidentally killing some of their own through mutilation with a chainsaw.

Winding up somewhat close to the marina, they accidentally crash and begin to run to the boat. Many have died and are currently dying, no surprise, zombies and whatnot.

Getting to the boat finally, they realize Michael is bitten and Ana pretty much breaks down while they get away, ending the movie.

Small sequences of zombies and past footage of the yacht before the infection play through the credits.

The Visuals

Ehhhh. It looks alright but I’ve always had this issue with this movie and other scary movies around this time and of this type where they’re perpetually dark to the point where I have to crank my TV settings to balance the light and whatnot. The graphics are nice though, the zombies are intense and wonderful looking. There’s even a part where they use a legitimate armless man as a zombies in order to get authenticity. I mean, that’s not as awesome as the classic Star Wars using the real life costumes and props, but its a pretty good move. 

The setting is pretty much reminiscent of the original Dawn of the Dead but a little less, restricted to mostly the mall throughout the movie, which isn’t too bad. There’s skirmishes in different areas of the mall and using all the different stores gives it the feeling of a more expansive setting without really even leaving the building. The addition of the buses in the garage and whatnot is good use of the mall. As well as all the scenes of them beating the hell out of zombies in stores. It’s not as gung-ho and beat-em-up in these scenes as the original, even keeping a strong sense of seriousness, but it gets the job done.

The Acting

Its not bad at all. Nobody really overacts, douchebags are douchebags, the heros are heros, basic stuff. The development is minimal but theres enough to enjoy or hate a character.

The Finality

Its terrifying for real. Crazy fast zombies, not enough guns, when there are enough guns, too many zombies, its intense. the sequences are solid as well, and moving. It does the job well for its job to be a scary as hell Zombie movie. It took all the aspects and elements of the original Dawn of the Dead and made serious, cinematic graces out of them. If you’re in the mood for a classic, almost B-movie feeling zombie movie, watch the 1978 version. Wanna watch a genuinely frightening zombie movie, watch the 2004 version.

7.5 / 10

#Movie Review #Reviews #Dawn of the Dead #George A Romero #Zack Snyder #2004 #1978 #Zombies #Halloween #October #Movies #Zombie Movie #Night of the Living Dead #Batman vs Superman #Scary #Horror #Movie Reviews

[accio-chris]

Unimaginable - Chapter 2/?

You can also read it (and leave some kudos ^^) on AO3

Chapter 1 - tumblr, AO3

Hiding behind the velvet curtain, Kurt tried to collect himself. Did the other boy really see him? That wasn’t possible, right? For years no one had noticed Kurt, and suddenly out of the blue there was a boy that did?!! No, it couldn’t be…

Peaking out from behind the curtain, Kurt saw the other boy sitting down on the dirty floor, still looking in the direction of the backstage area.

Taking a closer look at him, Kurt noticed the boy’s weird clothes for the first time. They were nothing like the people he saw in the audience every night. These looked old, a bit dirty, tattered on the edges, and from what he could see, a rather large hole on the back of the jacket.

Kurt had to admit, this whole situation was intriguing. For years he was all alone trapped in this building, wandering down the halls as he wished for someone to talk to. He was lonely, that was for sure, all the pranks he would pull on the theatre’s guests got old and dull after awhile. The repetitiveness of it all bringing him little to no enjoyment anymore.

One could easily say he was simply bored to death — pun intended.

Fidgeting with the buttons on his coat, Kurt tried to figure out his next step. On one hand, he could just reveal himself, again, and try to talk to the boy. Or, he could forget all this ever happened and go clean the storage closet like he did never night.

The boy would get bored and leave eventually, right?

No, something in Kurt’s head told him that he didn’t want to leave this boy, that he needed to bite the bullet and go over there to talk to him.

Gathering up all the courage he could muster, Kurt took a step forward and came out from his hiding place.

“Hi” he spoke softly.

At the sound of Kurt’s voice, the other boy jumped to his feet and turned around. He looked over at Kurt with wide eyes, but didn’t seem to be scared at all. No, that look was filled with fascination at what was standing before him.

“Hello” Blaine said, an easy smile forming on his face, “you can see me, right? I’m not imagining this?”

Giggling at the others curiousness, Kurt smiled as he held out his hand for a shake, “I’m Kurt. You?”

Reaching his own hand out, Blaine grasped the other boy’s hand firmly, “Blaine.”

When their hands touched, no phasing through or chill of wind, both boys stared down at their shared embrace and let out a gasp of wonder. It had been years since either boy had any real physical contact with another being. It was interesting and thrilling all at the same time.

And, yes, Kurt had to admit to himself that this was actually a really nice feeling. Blaine’s hand wasn’t warm like his own used to be, but it wasn’t cold, either. It… just was. Solid, strong, and in an odd way, comforting.

Lifting their gazes back up to look at the other, shy smiles growing on their faces when their eyes catch, both boys never let go of each other as they sat down in the spot Blaine previously occupied.

“So,” Blaine started, “what are you doing here?”

“Cleaning, mostly” Kurt answered with a shrug of his shoulder.

“Cleaning?”

“Yeah, pulling pranks gets boring after some time, you know.”

When Blaine failed to say anything, those eyes of brown swirl continuing to look over Kurt’s form with pure curiosity, Kurt continued to explain his situation.

“I’ve been here for a long time, Blaine. And yes, it was fun in the beginning – hiding props, messing a bit with costumes, playing with lights during rehearsals — It was really entertaining, at least for me. But after a while I realized that my pranks hurt people… I saw so many backstage managers losing their jobs, makeup girls crying and getting depressed as they blamed themselves for what I’ve been doing…”

Turning his body some to face Blaine properly, Kurt finished his story, “and one day not too long after, I heard some technicians talking about the possibility of closing the theatre because it may be haunted.”

Eyes going wide at that statement, Blaine nodded his head with understanding, “and that’s the last thing you wanted.”

Giving a head nod of his own, Kurt confirmed Blaine’s thoughts, “Very much so. That's the last thing I ever want to happen. The theatre…was my home, is my home. I couldn’t let them close up shop and erase the magic. So I backed off, started helping instead and keeping myself out of the way.”

“And from what I saw earlier, you decided to start performing, too.” Blaine added, making Kurt laugh.

Such a lovely sound, Blaine thought to himself.

“Yes, although I only started performing very recently,” Kurt admitted with shrug, his demeanor slowly taking a more sollum turn, “and that play you saw? The one about Mister Hamilton? I feel it. I lived it.”

“What do you mean you lived it?” Blaine asked, shifting closer to Kurt when he noticed the other boy grow sad at his question, “you lived what?”

“I met some of the characters, the real people. I knew them, Blaine.” Kurt confesed as his chin fell to his chest, his shoulders beginning to shake as he started to cry.

“I died during the battle of Yorktown.”

#unimaginable #acciochris writing #looking forward to new Klaine fics #klaine fanfiction