#i still have 5 more batches to process. and i am having an Experience | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingwithcolor · 3 years

Text

Gingerbread man as golem

@yaronata asked:

I would like to write a character who is Jewish and uses a Golem. She's based on the D&D class of the artificer which looks magic but isn't, because they produce all their effects with inventions, like the "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" quote. Her story is that her very Jewish town was under attack from a terrible monster when she was little. Her Rabbis made a Golem to protect the town, and it succeeded but was torn to pieces in the process. She was fascinated by the Golem and as a kid didn't see a big difference between it's sentience and person's so was really thankful for its sacrifice like you would a person's sacrificing their life for you. They thought all the pieces had been devoured by the monster before it died, but she went looking and found the piece used to animate the Golem, which she, kinda misunderstanding called its "heart". She kept the piece and grew up to be an incredibly skilled cook, specialising as a baker in the town. I imagine she would make a lot of really good food for the Jewish holidays, or to break fasts on ones like Yom Kippur or Tish'abav. But she also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice and the town still being alive, because I feel "we are not dead woo" is a big theme for Jewish holidays from my research, so it could fit, for which she invented ginger bread men to be the golem, and gave them little "hearts" of fruit or honey, and you're meant to eat them limb by limb like the beast did before eating the heart. This would be the inspiration for using the "heart" piece later to make her own giant gingerbread Golem to help her save the world.

These are my questions 1) would it be considered bad or disrespectful for someone who isn't a Rabbi to make a Golem, or is this method of taking an animating piece someone else made disrespectful? 2) Her journey will take her far from her town and her Jewish family and friends and she will likely travel with gentiles. Would it be disrespectful for a Golem to be used to protect a lot of gentiles and one Jew in the course of saving the world? I don't want to fall into the stereotype of someone putting all their effort into valuing and protecting very specifically the group that in real life is oppressive to them. 3) While she is not using magic and is actually mimicking its effects with technology she invents, is this drawing too close to the line of "magical Jew"? 4) I like to "play test" my characters in ttrpgs to really get a feel for them before I write. Would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character when I am a gentile, and would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character in a setting where there are demonstrably real gods other than the one of Judaism?

I really like this character idea and I think it's cute and fun and rooted in Jewish culture but I really want to make sure it's respectful and as good as I, a gentile researching on the internet, thinks it is. Thanks so much! Have a nice day!

My answer to this is very complicated because there are things I both like and do not like about this premise. First of all, I love the idea of a cookie golem, and I'm even imagining the magic word that brings him to life (EMET/truth) would be written in icing. And I'm okay with the part about how she found a piece of the old golem and used it to build a new golem, because that makes sense for a golem made from a baked good when you think about how people use sourdough starter to make a new batch of sourdough.

However, here are the thing that make me cock my head to the side like my little sister's German shepherd:

1. re: "magical Jew" - that's not a trope I've ever heard of. Remember, marginalized groups don't receive identical disrespect across the board. It is indeed a trope to use Black people or disabled people as supernatural plot devices who exist only to further the stories of white main characters or able-bodied main characters. But I can't say as I've ever seen anyone using Jewishness that way. Usually if we are someone's one-dimensional plot device it's as someone's lawyer, fixer, "money guy", etc, not a supernatural force. So this isn't something you have to worry about.

2. I have a certain level of discomfort with you playing as a Jewish character just because playacting as a marginalized culture you're not part of strikes me as off, but I understand that that's how you gain insight into a character you're about to write so it's more of a writing exercise than anything else. (I wonder if D&D regulars from marginalized groups have written about this -- I've only played a few times casually with family so if I did run into this type of discussion in my social justice reading I wouldn't have absorbed it. If anyone is curious I played first as Captain Werewolf, and then switched to playing as Cinnamon Blade because lawful good was too hard. :P )

3. I would prefer you omit the detail about eating the cookies piece by piece symbolically, for two reasons: a. it unintentionally evokes Communion by having appreciative people consume a baked good symbolic of an entity who sacrificed his life for theirs, and b. focusing on the details of flesh consumption reminds me too much of Blood Libel (yes, a gingerbread man is in the shape of a person but how many of us actually think about it literally, the way this act would cause?)

As to your first question: I'm fine with her making a golem even though she's just a rando. Second question: I see what you're saying and maybe it could be more okay if it's really clear how well these gentile folks are treating her? And questions three and four are answered above.

I really do love the idea of a giant gingerbread man golem. Cookie golem T_T <3

--Shira

I would like to second Shira’s point about not ripping apart the gingerbread cookies. I honestly would prefer they were used as decoration, and other cookies eaten instead, since that part just feels so not-Jewish to me, but I don’t have golem-specific issues other than that. It seems like you have already been doing a lot of research, which is appreciated.

As far as the ttrpg/DnD aspect… I bounce back and forth on the topic of playing characters that are so very different from our experiences, other than in fantasy-related ways. However, I am aware that a lot of people will play with, and experiment with gender in game, and learn something about themselves in the process (the number of trans players of ttrpgs who tried out their gender in game before they were out is high). It’s different with Judaism, and even more significantly different when it comes to things you can’t convert into, like various actual, real-world races. But because people do sometimes experience growth from experiences like this, I’m hesitant to dissuade players completely. I do urge you to, at a minimum, bring the same care, research, and willingness to learn, that you brought to this question.

--Dierdra

This sounds like a creative storyline that you could have lots of fun with 😊

At first I was confused by this part:

She also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice

But then you really got me thinking about different types of Jewish holidays and how they come about, so thank you for that!

Because it’s often the little details that either make a story super powerful or kind of nonsensical, I think it would be a good idea to decide what type of holiday is being created here:

A full-blown chag with restrictions on labour and halachic obligations? These are commanded in Torah and new ones can’t be added.

A minor yom tov with halachic obligations but no restrictions? These were instituted by the rabbis prior to the destruction of the Temple, so again new ones can’t be added.

A public holiday or equivalent? This would usually be declared by the Knesset in Israel, and filter to the rest of the Jewish world from there.

A community-based yom tov with specific customs only for people in the know, such as certain Chasidic groups celebrating the birthdays of their deceased leaders? I asked around, but no one can really tell me how these holidays get started, which is probably a good indication that they arise quite organically from a group of people who all just feel that it should be celebrated. Probably not created by a single person, as such.

Something she runs from her bakery, not religion-based, but more like a day of doing special products and deals the way many small businesses do on their anniversary?

Now, if the people of a modern-day town were actually saved by a real live Golem, that would arguably be the most overt miracle for many generations, so there would be a decent chance of options 3 and/or 4 happening. It’s entirely plausible that there could be special foods for this day that become a tradition, including Golem cookies. People who directly benefited might also return to the site where the Golem fought the monster and recite the prayer, ‘Blessed is Hashem, Master of the Universe, Who performed a miracle for me in this place.’

Alternatively, if it’s important that your MC created the holiday, something like option 5 might be the best. Hopefully this will still fulfil what you need: you describe her as incredibly skilled, so I can imagine the day when she goes all out on the Golem cookies being one of the most exciting events of the year for the townspeople, just because her baking is that good. Plus, they already have a personal stake in the Golem’s sacrifice, so I definitely think it could be a thing without being an official holiday. Also, if she is outside of an all-Jewish environment, don’t forget that she would have to decide whether to commemorate the anniversary in the Hebrew calendar or the local one.

Coming back to the cookies, sorry if we’re getting a little repetitive on this point! But I don’t see the cookies being torn limb from limb as part of a celebration. First of all, this doesn’t sound like a very celebratory thing to do, to say the least. Can you imagine explaining that to a three-year-old on their first Yom HaGolem? They would be terrified! (I don’t read this suggestion as accidental anti-Semitism so much as getting carried away with a metaphor, which I’m sure as writers we have all done!)

But also, it’s worth pointing out that our commemorative foods aren’t usually that literal. If you think about hamantaschen, maror, or apple in honey, they’re all symbols. That’s not to say that having Golem-shaped cookies is a problem, as this sounds like just a bit of fun that the MC is having and not something that is directly at odds with Judaism or Jewish culture. But it’s worth bearing in mind that the more literal you go from there in terms of tying the cookies to the event they commemorate, the less culturally aligned your holiday food becomes.

Finally, about the Golem protecting non-Jewish people: I like this idea! There’s a stereotype that we only use whatever is at our disposal to help ourselves and other Jewish people, so a Golem being created by Jews but helping others as well is a big plus for me. Of course, as has already been pointed out, this would be an odd choice if her Saving The World team were anti-Semitic or otherwise disrespectful to her/her community, but I don’t think you were headed that way!

-Shoshi

I have to come back in here just to squee over the phrase “Yom HaGolem.” Well done :D

--Shira

#asks #Jewish #dnd #golem #food #Jewish stereotypes

415 notes · View notes

skunkes · 2 years

Note

sorry if you’ve answered this before but can i ask what ur process is for making stickers? i would love to make my own but i never understood how ppl make them independently outside of using sites like redbubble where they print/ship the stickers for you ^^; do you order batches through stickermule or a similar site? or is there a way to produce them at home?

Yes! There is a way to produce em at home but I feel i dont make enough stickers that wld sell really really well to justify the cost, + i do not have insider knowledge on that part as i do not make them myself, sorry ^_^

Up to now i have used 3 separate places for stickers, ill probably add limks when im on web.

Read more is bc i am going into depth on the sites ive used and my experience + how you navigate em, bc i know i always like a lot of info on ths sort of stuff, feel free to ask more questions if you'd like to know anything else ^_^

V/ograce:

✨ Vo/grace is the cheapest of all options I'll be listing, and the trade off is it'll take about a month or longer for them to produce the sticker + for it to arrive to you.

✨ They have lots of options other sites dont (sparkle star and heart holo patterns i love so munch!) but they dont have a matte option iirc. Still good and varied! Ive enjoyed the quality + recently they've improved the...color printing?

✨ You upload files on the item page (its best to label em by Amount You Want + Size to make it easier for them (like CowboySticker_50pc_2inches)) + they later email you with a digital proof of how the outlines are and you can ask them to change it then, otherwiae minimal contact (if the proof is good you just say "yes its good to go!")

✨ Only thing here is sometimes proofs can be confusing (i ordered a sticker meant to be holo on 2 areas. They ended up not being holo at all, and i could not tell from the proofs lol like there was no indicator that theyd end up not holo :( ), and then it's hard to get things fixed if youre on a deadline (like ppl who make stickers for cons) bc itd take another month for the fixed ones to get to you

I use vo/grace when i rlly want a sparkle star or heart holo design, or lots of designs that fit within the materials they have ^_^ they also only have like a 10 sticker minimum order quantity (MOQ) i believe?? So you have to order 50 stickers at minimum but you can make them be 5 different designs of 10 iirc

Stic/kerapp:

🌷 Stick/erapp has the best/my favorite sticker UI out of the sites Ive used, you upload your file and theres an editor where you can decide how big you want the border of your sticker, what color, you can adjust how big you want em to be, + other things, so you don't have to wait for a digital proof

🌷 I've had good experiences w them and the cost is good but I havent used em in a while, and last i heard they are getting a lot of attention rn due to increased popularity, which has led to them getting some orders wrong, which is ok, but I've also seen people say customer support for this has not been great recently, so I am...not completely advocating against em but I'm avoiding em for the moment until things mybe calm down? But thats bc im not a risk taker urnshfksjf

🌷 I rlly do hope things are resolved soon bc they also have some special sticker materials that other sites dont have that id love to experiment with, but its not like. A NEED ^_^

Cant remember the MOQ here but i think its also 50. I think the base MOQ for sticker sites is 50

Stick/erninja:

🌈 Sti/ckerninja is a small local business in portland iirc. I used them for my most recent sticker (be my cowboy) bc I wanted it to be matte and Vog/race doesnt have matte sticker yet! I like their UI and the way they have options and materials set up. You upload your file (all these sites specify which they accept btw ^_^) and it gives you a little mini thumbnail on what it'll look like. This is good bc I actually had some file issues and I was able to see the file i uploaded messed up the colors! So i was able to fix it before purchasing.

🌈 They give you an estimated shipping time + some time later you'll get an email with digital proof and dimensions, if there are issues you can contact them and if not you just approve on a little menu in your account ^_^ iirc they also give discounts for specific designs and are vocal about supporting things like blm which is epic to me ^_^ my experience with them was quite nice + I think prices are similar to stick/erapp.

✨ Again I'm not a big risk taker and my stuff always flops so I usually stick to vogr/ace for the cost bc I have the time/dont do cons or anything w a deadline ^_^ mybe you cld start there if you wanna start out without investing a lot of money!

🌈 I rlly rlly liked matte sticker feeling so until vo/grace adds that I'm doing that much on stick/erninja! But i use both of these interchangeably atm!

🌷 I wld check each of em out for materials to see which you like too bc they all have their own special ones i think. I think stick/erapp has a lot of options ppl enjoy, but no sparkle holo like vo/grace. Sticke/rninja has blacklight florescent sticker options! Etc

I havent tried other sites as theyre usually more expensive hdhskfjskd ^_^ but yeag!

#long post -#skunk mail #anonymous

44 notes · View notes

doctorbeth · 4 years

Text

Stripes the 50 year old tiger

This will be a longer post, because it’s all about the details, and there was a lot of going back and forth with photos and emails to get Stripes and his stripes just right. So be sure you’re comfy when you sit down to read it. :-)

***************

Stripes person first wrote to me back in December about her tiger, Stripes, and his companion RedEye the snake. Both were starting to feel their age, but as she said,

“ As you can see Stripes is in the most need of repairs. Personally, I’m guessing that a full recovering is needed, but I’m certainly no expert and will follow your advice. Here are some pics which show Stripes fur disappearing and soon he will be bald. Amazingly he has no damage that I can find. His ears need some stuffing, but they have never been tall, firm standing Teddy Bear ears.”

Here are the diagnosis photos she sent:

As you can see, his belly section was pretty good, but his furry parts were wearing and fading. His person really wanted his fur recovered, in an orangier rather than tanner fur, and she opted for him to have a spa too.

Here he is in his bubble bath:

Once he was dry, he got restuffed and of course, got a heart with a bit of his original stuffing. Here’s his heart being made:

Then it was time to choose furs. As some of you know who’ve been reading for a while, usually with tigers we use a solid fur of the preferred background color, then add the stripes by hand afterwards. Here were the best fur options:

His person opted for the orangier, furrier one.

Stripes got recovered, and some smaller wounds on his belly were sewn. Then, it was time for hand striping. I did some basic striping, and then sent photos for feedback:

His person’s first response was:

Beth, you’ve made me cry at work. I’m absolutely over the moon with Stripes new look!!! Holy cats he’s looking beautiful!! You are AMAZING!

But I was asking for striping feedback, and she happily provided it:

The stripes. Thank you for being so conservative. :) I would like to add some more stripes. I’ve included an updated pic that shows where I would like some stripes added.

Tail: Could you put 2 stripes in a ring pattern around the tail? They continue the black spots you started. I also noticed with other Gund tigers that the ring was painted at a slight angle or sprayed as 2 “halves”, not a straight ring that looked like a raccoon’s tail. (pics) I know that there was more black at the tip of the tail, but I don’t think the whole tip was black.

Back Leg: I’ve continued your 3 spots into stripes.

Body: I’ve added 2 stripes, but if you will notice stripe #2 is in the shape of a ‘V”. (I remember this detail as a child) The stripes do NOT have to line up with the fabric underneath. They didn’t before. :D

Face: I’ve added a short stripe above Stripes’ right eye. This detail always gave him a slight serious look without being mean. (not a lot of slant to the line, if any) I have always loved this detail about him. And I’ve elongated the stripe on his forhead.

Beth, I’m pretty sure we will be adding some more stripes to the back, especially his head but I thought we might tackle this bit first.

She closed with:

Again, I just absolutely can’t thank you enough for your beautiful and loving work on my best friend. I have been showing people the before and after pics for the last 5 hours. I’m so happy!!!

So back to drawing stripes on Stripes I went. Here are the next batch of photos:

Stripes person was thrilled:

Stripes looks spectacular!! I mean he is just awesome with the stripes that you’ve filled out.

She wanted just one more stripe. She sent a photo, but it was in another format, so I won’t put it here, but she also described what she wanted very well:

So I just have 1 more stripe for you. If you look at my pic, you will see that I’ve drawn a line over the small black dot that is on his forehead. In the last pic you sent me you can still see that it’s just a spot and not a stripe. Could you lengthen that spot into a stripe for me?

Please note the position. When you are seated facing Stripes, this stripe includes/starts at the black spot and runs towards the right. You have a pretty stripe that’s higher on the head already placed on the left so this one goes off to the right and is the same length as that one.

Adjustment made, I sent another photo (you can see the printout with her line instruction next to him):

Her response:

Perfection Achieved! I’m so so happy!!!! How many exclamation points can I put in an email to show you how perfect Stripes is!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So Stripes got packed up and headed home to a grateful human and snake. Here he is at home with his pal, RedEye:

His person was soooo happy! She wrote a very long thank you, with a history of Stripes and RedEye, and I don’t want to edit it, so I’m copying it entirely here for you to read. But you can skip it if you want and just know she was happy!

Hi Beth,

Sit back and relax. This may be a little bit of a long happy read. :D Please feel free to use any content or pics from my emails for your blog.

I waited anxiously for Stripes to arrive. Yes, my husband signed for the box and I couldn’t wait to get home!

And so the moment has arrived. I brought Stripes best friend Redeye in from the bedroom to help me open the package. We open, I close my eyes dig in past the packing peanuts and pull out our best friend. Oh My Goodness! He is beautiful! bright! and colorful! He practically glows! I see his face. Yes, yes! It’s Stripes! I see the same face I’ve gazed into and loved for 50 years. And that’s when the tears start. Crying, mouth open in shock but my husband says he’s never seen me happier. ..After many long years, I can finally cuddle my friend again.

Beth you have given me back something I thought I would never have again. I love Stripes so, but I couldn’t, didn’t dare to pet him or cuddle him. I had to be so gentle, so afraid that I was doing more damage to him. But now all that is over! I can sleep with my buddy by my side. I can take him on vacations again! I’m tearing up just writing this. I can’t express my joy…absolute joy over the work you have done. Stripes looks like a beautiful and bright toy again. Thank you Beth. Thank you so very much.

…And I’ll be sending Redeye to you some time in February. I’ll be sure to email you first to start the process.

And here’s a little history about Stripes. Stripes was a Christmas present in 1969. I have always loved tigers and I was in deep love the moment I saw him. He has enjoyed play tea parties with me, and watched drive-in movies sitting in the back window. He has looked over the candy hauls that I collected during Halloween and been in a beautiful oak tree during the crisp dry autumn. (Carefully placed on a towel, but he needed to experience a tree. He is a tiger after all.) He has been with me in Japan for a year and traveled all over the US northwest looking out of a train window. And he has done all these things with Redeye by his side.

--But let’s face the facts, in the last few years my friend was disappearing before my eyes. There was good fortune that his seams were okay but the fur was coming off. His stripes were completely gone in areas. He was looking more yellow everywhere. And I dared only to pat him. That’s when I began to search for help to restore my friend and so I found Realms of Gold on the internet.

Beth has been wonderful, corresponding with emails and working out details by sending pictures back and forth. She listened to my input and was absolutely amazing at applying the stripes in the right places. We actually discussed exactly where to put them. :D I trust Beth’s skills so much that I will be sending Stripes best friend Redeye along soon. He was amazed and so happy with Stripes look, that he can’t wait to go to Realms of Gold!

Okay Beth, this may be a little serious but I wanted to express my honest feelings, and let you know why this has been so important to me.

With my 2 stuffed animals loosing hair and looking tired a sobering thought occurred to me. If something happened to me, what would happen to them? We have no children to give them to. We can’t donate them because being so worn out, no one would take them. And the thought that they might end up in a garbage bin was too much. Of course for me, my goal was to pet, play and enjoy them again. That goes without saying. But now, seeing Stripes beautiful bright colors, I am happy and secure in knowing that years from now, I can donate or will him to a children’s home where he will continue to be loved. (I have several friends who grew up in orphanages and we think it’s a wonderful idea.)

Thank you so much Beth!!!!!!

I don’t know about all of you, but that made me smile all day. :-)

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal hospital #stuffed animal cleaning #stuffed animals #tigers #tiger #stuffed animal tiger #toy tiger

8K notes · View notes

sabugabr · 3 years

Text

Why the Clone problem in Star Wars animated media is also a Mandalorian problem, and why we have to talk about it (PART 2)

Hi! I finally finished wrapping this up, so here’s part 2 of what has already become a mini article (you can find Part 1 here, if you like!)

And for this part, it won’t be as much as a critic as part 1 was, but instead I’d like to focus more on what I consider to be a wasted potential regarding the representation of the Clones in the Star Wars animated media, from the first season of The Clone Wars till now, and why I believe it to be an extension of the Mandalorian problem I discussed in part 1 — the good old colonialism.

Sources used, as always, will be linked at the end of this post!

PART 2: THE CLONES

Cody will never know peace

So I’d like to state that I won’t focus as much on the blatantly whitewashing aspect, for I believe it to be very clear by now. If you aren’t familiar with it, I highly recommend you search around tumblr and the internet, there are a lot of interesting articles and posts about it that explain things very didactically and in detail. The only thing you need to know to get this started is that even at the first seasons of Clone Wars (when the troopers still had this somewhat darker skin complexion and all) they were still a whitewashed version of Temuera Morrison (Jango’s actor). And from then, as we all know, they only got whiter and whiter till we get where we are now, in rage.

Look at this very ambiguously non-white but still westernized men fiercely guarding their pin-up space poster

Now look at this still westernized but slightly (sarcasm) whiter men who for some reason now have different tanning levels among them (See how Rex now has a lighter skin tone? WHEN THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN KKKKKKK) Anyway you got the idea. So without further ado...

2.1 THE FANTASY METAPHOR

As I mentioned before in Part 1, one thing that has to be very clear if you want to follow my train of thought is that it’s impossible to consume something without attributing cultural meanings to it, or without making cultural associations. This things will naturally happen and it often can improve our connection to certain narratives, especially fantastic ones. Even if a story takes place in a fantastic/sci fi universe, with all fictional species and people and worlds and cultures, they never come from nowhere, and almost always they have some or a lot of basing in real people and cultures. And when done properly, this can help making these stories resonate in a very beautifull, meaningfull way. I actually believe this intrisic cultural associations are the things that make these stories work at all. As the brilliant american speculative/science fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin says in the introduction (added in 1976) of her novel The Left Hand of Darkness, and that I was not able to chopp much because it’s absolutely genious and i’ll be leaving the link to the full text right here,

“The purpose of a thought-experiment, as the term was used by Schrodinger and other physicists, is not to predict the future — indeed Schrodinger's most famous thought-experiment goes to show that the ‘future,’ on the quantum level, cannot be predicted — but to describe reality, the present world.

Science fiction is not predictive; it is descriptive.”

[...] “Fiction writers, at least in their braver moments, do desire the truth: to know it, speak it, serve it. But they go about it in a peculiar and devious way, which consists in inventing persons, places, and events which never did and never will exist or occur, and telling about these fictions in detail and at length and with a great deal of emotion, and then when they are done writing down this pack of lies, they say, There! That's the truth!

They may use all kinds of facts to support their tissue of lies. They may describe the Marshalsea Prison, which was a real place, or the battle of Borodino, which really was fought, or the process of cloning, which really takes place in laboratories, or the deterioration of a personality, which is described in real textbooks of psychology; and so on. This weight of verifiable place-event-phenomenon-behavior makes the reader forget that he is reading a pure invention, a history that never took place anywhere but in that unlocalisable region, the author's mind. In fact, while we read a novel, we are insane —bonkers. We believe in the existence of people who aren't there, we hear their voices, we watch the battle of Borodino with them, we may even become Napoleon. Sanity returns (in most cases) when the book is closed.”

[...] “ In reading a novel, any novel, we have to know perfectly well that the whole thing is nonsense, and then, while reading, believe every word of it. Finally, when we're done with it, we may find — if it's a good novel — that we're a bit different from what we were before we read it, that we have been changed a little, as if by having met a new face, crossed a street we never crossed before. But it's very hard to say just what we learned, how we were changed.

The artist deals with what cannot be said in words.

The artist whose medium is fiction does this within words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words. Words can be used thus paradoxically because they have, along with a semiotic usage, a symbolic or metaphoric usage. [...] All fiction is metaphor. Science fiction is metaphor. What sets it apart from older forms of fiction seems to be its use of new metaphors, drawn from certain great dominants of our contemporary life — science, all the sciences, and technology, and the relativistic and the historical outlook, among them. Space travel is one of these metaphors; so is an alternative society, an alternative biology; the future is another. The future, in fiction, is a metaphor.

A metaphor for what?” [1]

A metaphor for what indeed. I won’t be going into what Star Wars as a whole is a metaphor for, because I am certain that it varies from person to person, and everyone can and has the total right to take whatever they want from this story, and understand it as they see fit. That’s why it’s called the modern myth. And therefore, all I’ll be saying here is playinly my take not only on what I understand the Clones to be, but what I believe they could have meant.

2.2 SO, BOBA IS A CLONE

I don’t want to get too repetitive, but I wanted to adress it because even though I by no means intend to put Boba and the Clones in the same bag, there is one aspect about them that I find very similar and interesting, that is the persue of individuality. While the Clones have this very intrinsically connected to their narratives, in Boba’s case this appears more in his concept design. As I mentioned in Part 1, one of the things the CW staff had in mind while designing the mandalorians is that they wanted to make Boba seem unique and distinguishable from them, and honestly even in the original trilogy he stands out a lot. He is unique and memorable and that’s one of the things that draws us to him.

And as we all know, both Boba and Jango and the Clones are played by Temuera Morrison — and occasionally by the wonderful Bodie Taylor and Daniel Logan. And Temuera Morrison comes from the Maori people. And differently from the mandalorian case, where we were talking about a whole planet, in this situation we’re talking about portraying one single person, so there’s nowhere to go around his appearance and phenotypes, right? I mean, you are literally representing an actual individual, so there’s no way you could alter their looks, right?

(hahahaha wrong)

And besides that, I think that is in situations like that (when we are talking about individuals) that the actor’s perspective could really have a place to shine (just the same as how Lea was mostly written by Carrie Fisher). In this very heart-warming interview for The New York Times (which you can read full signing up for their 5-free-articles-per-month policy), Temuera Morrison talks a little bit about how he incorporated his cultural background to Boba Fett in The Mandalorian:

“I come from the Maori nation of New Zealand, the Indigenous people — we’re the Down Under Polynesians — and I wanted to bring that kind of spirit and energy, which we call wairua. I’ve been trained in my cultural dance, which we call the haka. I’ve also been trained in some of our weapons, so that’s how I was able to manipulate some of the weapons in my fight scenes and work with the gaffi stick, which my character has.” [2]

The Gaffi stick (or Gaderffii), btw, is the weapon used by the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine, and according to oceanic art expert Bruno Claessens it’s design was inspired by wooden Fijian war clubs called totokia. [3]

And I think is very clear how this background can influence one’s performance and approach to a character, and majorly how much more alive this character will feel like. Beyond that, having an actor from your culture to play and add elements to a character will higly improve your sense of connection with them (besides all the impact of seeying yourself on screen, and seeying yourself portrayed with respect). It would only make sense if the cultural elements that the actor brought when giving life to a fictional individual would’ve been kept and even deepened while expanding this role. And if you’re familiar with Star Wars Legends you’ll probably rememeber that in Legends Jango would train and raise all Clone troopers in the Mandalorian culture, so that the Clones would sing traditional war chants before battles, be fluent in Mando’a (Mandalore’s language) and some would proudly take mandalorian names for themselves. So why didn’t Filoni Inc. take that into account when they went to delve into the clones in The Clone Wars?

2.3 THE WHITE MINORITY

First of all I’d like to state that all this is 100% me conjecturing, and by no means at all I’m saying that this is what really happened. But while I was re-watching CW before The Bad Batch premiere, something came to my mind regarding the whitewashing of the Clones, and I’d like to leave that on the table.

So, you know this kind of recent movies and series that depicted like, fairies in this fictional world where fairies were very opressed, but there would be a lot of fairies played by white actors? Just like Bright and Carnival Row. If you’ve watched some of these and have some racial conscience, you’ll probably know where I’m going here. And the issue with it is that often this medias will portray real situations of racism and opression and prejudice, but all applied to white people. Like in Carnival Row, when going to work as a maid in a rich human house, our girl Cara Delevingne had to fight not to have her braids (which held a lot of significance in her culture) cut by her intolerant human mistress, because the braids were not “appropriate”. Got it? hahahaha what a joy

Look at her ethnic braids!!!

One of the reasons this happens might be to relieve a white audience of the burden of watching these stories and feeling what I like to call “white guilt”. Because, as we all know, white people were never very oppressed. Historically speaking, white people have always been in privileged social positions, and in an exploitative relationship between two ethnic groups, white people very usually would be the exploiters — the opressors. So while watching situations (that every minority would know to be very real) of opression in fiction, if these situations were lived by a white actor, there would be no real-life associations, because we have no historical parameter to associate this situation with anything in real life — if you are white. Thus, there is less chance that, when consuming one of these narratives, whoever is watching will question the "truthfulness" of these situations (because it's not "real racism", see, "they're just fairies"). It's easier for a person to watch without having to step out of their comfort zone, or confront the reality of real people who actually go through things like that. There's even a chance that this might diminish empathy for these people.

Once again, not saying this is specifically the case of the Clones, majorly because one of the main feelings you have when watching CW is exactly empathy for the troopers (at least for me, honestly, the galaxy could explode, I just wanted those poor men to be happy for God’s sake). But I’ll talk more about it later.

The thing is, the whole thing with the Clones, if you think about it, it’s not pretty. If you step on little tiny bit outside the bubble of “fictional fantasy”, the concept is very outrageous. They are kept in conditions analogous to slavery, to say the least. To say the more, they were literally made in an on-demand lab to serve a purpose they are personally not a part of, for which they will neither receive any reward nor share any part of the gains. On the contrary, as we saw in The Bad Batch, as soon as the war was over and the clones were no longer useful as cannonballs, they were discarded. In the (wonderful) episode 6 of the third season of (the almost flawless) Rebels, “The Last Battle”, we're even personally introduced to the analogy that there really wasn't much difference in value between clones and droids, something that was pretty clear in Clone Wars but hadn't been said explicitly yet.

In fact, technically the Separatists can be considered to be more human than the Republic. But that's just my opinion.

So, you had this whole army of pretty much slaves. I know this is a heavy term, but these were people who were originally stripped of any sense of humanity or individuality, made literally to go to war and die in it, doing so purely in exchange for food and lodging, under the false pretense that they belonged to a glorious purpose (yes, Loki me taught that term, that was the only thing I absorbed from this series). Doing all this under extremely precarious conditions from which they had no chance of getting out, actually, getting out was tantamount to the death penalty. They were slaves. In milder terms, an oppressed minority. And again, I don't know if that was the case, but I can understand why Filoni Inc would be apprehensive about representing phenotically indigenous people in this situation. Especially since we in theory should see Anakin and Obi-Wan as the good guys.

(and here I’d like to leave a little disclaimer that I believe the whole Anakin-was-a-slave-once plot was HUGELY misused (and honestly just badly done) both in the prequels and in the animeted series — maybe for the best, since he was, you know, white and all that, and I don’t know how the writers would have handled it, but ANYWAY — I believe this could have been further explored, particularly regarding his relationship with the Clones, and how it could have influenced his revolt against the Jedi, and manipulated to add to his anger and all that. I mean, we already HAD the fact that Anakin shared a deeper conection with his troopers than usual)

Yes, Rex, you have common trauma experiences to share. But anyway, backing to my track

As I was saying, we are to see them as good guys, and maybe that could’ve been tricky if we saw them hooping up on slavery practices. Like, idk, a “nice” sugar plantation owner? (I don’t know the correct word for it in english, but in portuguese they were called senhores de engenho) Like this guy from 12 Years a Slave?

You know, the slave owner who was “nice”. IDK, anyway

No one will ever watch Clone Wars and make this association (I believe not, at least), of course not. But if we were to see how CW deepened the clone arcs, and see them as phenotypically indigenous, subjected to certain situations that occur in CW (yes, like Umbara), maybe some kind of association would’ve been easier to make.

I mean, come onnnn I can’t be the only one seeing it

You see, maybe not the whole 12 Years a Slave association one, but I don’t think it’s hard to see there was something there. And maybe this could’ve been even more evident if they looked non-white. Because historically, both black peoples and indigenous peoples went through processes of slavery, from which we as a society are still impacted today. And to slave a people, the first thing you have to do is strip them from their humanity. So it might be easier to see this situation and apply it to real life. And maybe that could lead to a whole lot of other questions regarding the Clones, the Republic, the Jedi, and even how chill Obi-Wan was about all this. We might come out of it, as lady Ursula Le Guin stated in the fragment above, a bit different from what we were before we watch it.

Maybe even unconsciously, Filoni Inc thought we would be more confortable watching if they just looked white (and because of colonialism and all that, but I’m adding thoughts here).

And of course I don’t like the idea of, idk, looking at Obi-Wan and thinking about Benedict Cumberbatch in 12 Years a Slave or something like that. Of course that, if the Clones were to play the same role as they did in the prequels, to obediently serve the Jedi and quietly die for them, that would have been bad, and hurtfull, and pejorative if added to all that I said here. But the thing is that Clone Wars, consciously or not, already solved that. At least to my point of view, they already managed to approach this situation in an incredible competent way, that is giving them agency.

2.4 AGENCY AND INDIVIDUALITY

So, one of the things I love most in Clone Wars is how it really feels like it’s about the Clones. Like, we have the bigger scene of Palpatine taking over, Ahsoka’s growth arc, Anakin’s turn to The Dark Side, the dawn of the Jedi and rise of the Empire and all that, but it also has this idk, vibe, of there’s actually something going on that no one in scene is talking about? And this something is the Clones. We have these episodes spread throughout the seasons, even out of chronological order, which when watched together tell a parallel story to the war, to everything I mentioned. Which is a story about individuals. Clone Wars manages to, in a (at least to me) very touching way, make the Clones be the heros.

Can you really look me in the eye and say that Five’s story didn’t CRASH you like a full-speed train???? He may not have the same amount of screen-time as the protagonists, but his story is just as important as theirs (and to me, it might be the most meaningful one). Because he is the first to break free from the opression cicle all the Clones were trapped into.

His story can be divided into 6 phases.

1 - First, the construction of his individuality, in other words, the reclaiming of his humanity.

2 - Then the assimilation of understanding yourself as an individual of value, and then extending this to all his brothers, not as a unit, but as a set of individuals collectively having this same newly discovered value.

3 - This makes him realize that in the situation they find themselves in, they are not being recognized as such. This makes him question the reality of their situation.

4 - Freed from the illusion of his state, he seeks the truth about it.

5 - This then leads him to seek liberation not just for himself, but for all the Clones (it's basically Plato's Cave, and I'm not exaggerating here).

6 - And finally, precisely because he has assimilated his individuality and sought freedom for himself and his brothers, he is punished for it.

His story is all about agency. Agency, according to the Wikipedia page that is the first to appear if you type “agency” on Google, is that agency is “the abstract principle that autonomous beings, agents, are capable of acting by themselves” [4], and this abstract principle can be dissected in 7 segments:

Law - a person acting on behalf of another person

Religious - "the privilege of choice... introduced by God"

Moral - capacity for making moral judgments

Philosophical - the capacity of an autonomous agent to act, relating to action theory in philosophy

Psychological - the ability to recognize or attribute agency in humans and non-human animals

Sociological - the ability of social actors to make independent choices, relating to action theory in sociology

Structural - ability of an individual to organize future situations and resource distribution

All of them apply here. And this is just the story of one Clone. We know there are many others throughout the series.

Agency is what can make the world of a difference when you are telling a story about an opressed minority. Because opressed minorities do exist, and opression exists, and if you are insecure about consuming a fictional media about opressed minorities, see if they have agency might be a good place to start. So that’s why I think that everything I said before in 2.3 falls short. Because the solution already existed, and was indeed done. Honestly, making the non-agency representation of the Clones (the one we see in the prequels) to be the one played by Temuera Morrison, and then giving them agency in the version where they appear to be white, just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

And honestly, if they were to make the Clones look like Temuera Morrison, and by that mean, take more inspiration in the Māori culture, maybe they wouldn’t even have to change much of their representation besides their facial features. As I said in part 1, I am not by any means an expert in polynesian cultures, but there was something that really got me while I was researching about it. And is the facial tattoos. More precisely, the tā moko.

2.5 TĀ MOKO

Once again I’ll be using the Te Ara: The Encyclopedia of New Zealand as source, and you can find the articles used linked at the end of this post.

Etymologically speaking,

“The term moko traditionally applied to male facial tattooing, while kauae referred to moko on the chins of women. There were other specific terms for tattooing on other parts of the body. Eventually ‘moko’ came to be used for Māori tattooing in general.” [5]

So moko is the correct name for the characteristic tattoos we often see when we look for Māori culture.

These ones ^. Please also look this book up, it’s beautiful. It’s written by Ngahuia Te Awekotuku, a New Zealand academic specialising in Māori cultural issues and a lesbian activist. She’s wonderful.

According to the Tourism NewZealand website,

“In Māori culture, it [moko] reflects the individual's whakapapa (ancestry) and personal history. In earlier times it was an important signifier of social rank, knowledge, skill and eligibility to marry.”

“Traditionally men received moko on their faces, buttocks and thighs. Māori face tattoos are the ultimate expression of Māori identity. Māori believe the head is the most sacred part of the body, so facial tattoos have special significance.”

[...] “The main lines in a Māori tattoo are called manawa, which is the Māori word for heart.” [6]

Therefore, in the Māori culture, there’s this incredibly deep meaning attributed to the (specific of their culture) tattooing of the face. The act of tattooing the body, any part of the body, is incredibly powerful in many cultures around the globe. The adornment of the body can have different meanings for these different cultures, but all of which I've come into contact with do mean a lot. It’s one of the oldest and most beautiful human expressions of individuality and identity.

And in the Star Wars universe, the Clones are the group that has the deeper connection to, and the best narrative regarding, tattoos. In fact, besides Hera’s father, Cham Syndulla, the Clones are the only individuals to have tattooed skin, at least that I can recall of. And they do share a deep connection to it.

For the Clones, the tattoos (added to hairstyles) are the most meaningful way in which they can express themselves. Is what makes them distinguishable from each other to other people. Tattoos are one of the things that represent them as individuals.

And I’m not BY ANY MEANS sayin that the Clones facial tattoos = Moko. That’s not my point. But that’s one of the things I meant when I said earlier about the wasted potential of the representation of the Clones (in my point of view). Because maybe if it were their intention to base the culture of the clones after the polynesian culture, maybe if it were their intention to make the Clones actually look like Temuera Morrison, this could have meant a whole deal. More than it’d appear looking to it from outside this culture. Maybe if there were actual polynesian people in the team that designed the Clones and wrote them (or at least indigenous people, something), who knows what we could’ve had.

Even in Hunter’s design, I noticed that if you take for example this frame of Temuera from the movie River Queen (2005), where we can have a closer look at the design of his tā moko

Speaking purely plastically (because I don’t want to get into the movie itself, just using it as example because then I can use Temuera himself as a comparison), see the lines around the contours of his mouth? Now look at Hunter’s.

I find it interesting that they choose to design this lines coming from around his nose like that. But at this point I am stretching A LOT into plastic and semiotics, so this comparison is just a little thing that got my attention. I know that his tattoo is a skull and etc etc, I’m just poiting this out. And it even makes me a little frustrated, because they could have taken so many interesting paths in the Bad Batch designs. But instead they choose to pay homage to Rambo. And I mean, I like Rambo, I think he’s cool and all that.

Look at him doing Filipino martial arts

But then, as we say in Brasil, they had the knife and the cheese in their hands (all they had to do was cut the cheese, but they didn’t). Istead, it seems like in order to make Hunter look like Rambo, they made him even whiter???

2.6 SO...

Look, I love The Clone Wars. I’m crazy about it. I love the Clones, I love their stories and plots. They are great characters and one of the greatest addings ever made in the Star Wars universe. They even have, in my opinion, the best soundtrack piece to feature in a Star Wars media since John Williams’ wonderful score. It just feels to me as if their narrative core is full of bagage, and meanings, and associations that were just wiped under the carpet when they suddenly became white. It just feels to me as if, once again, they were trying to erase the person behing the trooper mask, and the people they were to represent, and the history they should evoke.

I don’t know why they were whitewashed. Maybe it was just the old due racism and colonialism. Maybe it was meant for us to not question the Jedi, or our good guys, or the real morality of this fictional universe where we were immersed. But then, was it meant for what?

The Clones were a metaphor for what?

(spoiler: the answer still contains colonialism)

Thank you so much for reading !!!! (and congratulations for getting this far, you are a true hero)

SOURCES USED IN THIS:

[1] Ursulla K. Le Guin, 'The Left Hand of Darkness', 14th ACE print run of June, 1977

[2] Dave Itzkoff, 'Being Boba Fett: Temuera Morrison Discusses ‘The Mandalorian’', The New York Times, published Dec. 7, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/07/arts/television/the-mandalorian-boba-fett-temuera-morrison.html (accessed 15 September 2021)

[3] Bruno Claessens, 'George Lucas' "Star Wars" and Oceanic art' , Archived from the original on December 5, 2020, https://web.archive.org/web/20201205114353/http://brunoclaessens.com/2015/07/george-lucas-star-wars-and-oceanic-art/#.YEiJ-p37RhF (accessed 15 September 2021)

[4] Wikipedia contributors, "Agency," Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Agency&oldid=1037924611 (accessed September 17, 2021)

[5] Rawinia Higgins, 'Tā moko – Māori tattooing - Origins of tā moko', Te Ara - the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/ta-moko-maori-tattooing/page-1 (accessed 17 September 2021)

[6] Tourism New Zealand, ‘The meaning of tā moko, traditional Māori tattoos’, The Tourism New Zealand website, https://www.newzealand.com/us/feature/ta-moko-maori-tattoo/ (accessed 17 September 2021)

27 notes · View notes

ao3theskyisblue · 3 years

Text

How to Woo a Texan

For @bellakitse who prompted this nearly a year ago and I had the audacity to put it off for this long 😅 Thank you for the title prompt, I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

He was suddenly brought back to the time when he was 5 years old, gazing at the white lilies in that antique vase every morning. How he hadn’t understood why his mother carried an aura so bright and yet so soft at the same time every time she looked at them.

Oh. There you are. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

***

Or, snapshots through time of their relationship with a splash of feelings

Read on AO3

Ever since he could remember, there was always a fresh vase of white lilies that sat comfortably on the side of the kitchen counter. A 5-year-old Carlos, who was finally old enough to climb down the stairs himself (though his parents seemed to disagree) had always tried to wake up early to try and catch whoever it was that was responsible for them. They always magically appeared like clockwork every Monday morning at 7am.

Neatly trimmed, placed, and lasted a week before a brand-new batch would appear the next Monday.

He hadn’t wanted to think too much about them, but there were times that he caught his mother looking at the flowers with a soft look in her eyes. Sometimes she would brush her fingers along the petals, and other times she would lean down to delicately smell them, an ever-present smile gracing her lips.

He asked her about it once, the words coming out faster than his brain could tell him to stop.

“Mama, where those come from?” He asks one morning, lips puckered in a light pout when he realized he didn’t catch whoever it was that put them there again. His mother turned around from where she was washing some grapes to look in his direction, only to widen her eyes in horror.

“Carlitos! What have I told you about climbing onto places taller than you?” His mother scolded, rushing over to stop him from climbing onto the kitchen counter so he could reach the vase easier. She wrapped her arms gently around his waist, and he didn’t fight it when she sat him on a dining room chair.

“But I wanted to see flowers!” Carlos pointed towards the vase, and his mother turned her head to where he was looking, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She reached over to take out one of the flowers slowly, before displaying it in front of him.

“You mean the white lilies?” His mother asked, nodding at him when he looked at her questioningly. He took the flowers gently in his hands, running his fingers along the petals. They felt like any other flower he’s touched in the schoolyard, and they didn’t have a particularly distinct scent. At least, not that he could tell.

So, what was so special about these flowers?

He was about to ask, but his mother beat him to it. “Your dad is a little bit of a romantic. He wakes up early to get these from the farmer’s market every Monday morning.” And there it is again. That smile he always sees on his mother whenever his dad is mentioned, a smile that made her look so bright and happy.

There was something he didn’t understand though.

“What’s a ro…romand-romantic? Is it like…like Roman empire?” Carlos frowned, not quite remembering that book his teacher had been reading a few weeks ago but he was sure he heard ‘Roman’ somewhere. His mother shook her head, laughing fondly. He watched her get up from her kneeling position to sit on the dining chair beside him, her hands resting on his knees.

“You’re probably a little too young to understand this fully,” Carlos wrinkled his nose at that, because no, he wasn’t too “young,” he could recite the alphabet just fine forwards and backward and knew all his times tables.

His mother gave him a knowing look as if she knew what he was thinking. “Those were the flowers your father gave me when he first told me he loved me, and ever since then, he gets them every week- rain or shine. Just to see a smile on my face when I open the door for him.” His mother’s smile is radiant, and he sees her peeking at the flowers again affectionately, as if just looking at them rings in a new bout of happiness all over again.

“So…” Carlos trails off, a million thoughts circling his mind. “Love means flowers?” His mother chuckles at that, patting his leg fondly.

“It could be, but everyone expresses love differently.” His mother says, before reaching up a hand to place over his heart. He looks at her, at the warmth in her eyes as her next words resonate within his mind.

“Love can be big things, and it can be little things. It can be complicated, and it can be easy. You’ll find your own definition of it one day, and your dad and I will be with you every step of the way.”

***

“I can’t wait to sleep for a decade.” Carlos groaned, toeing off his shoes before stumbling across the entranceway towards the stairs, regretting not building an escalator instead when he had the chance. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, and a bright laugh that never failed to make his heart skip a beat echoed in his ear.

“That’s a coma, sweetheart, not quite something I support. Experience, and all that.” TK mused, squeezing the skin just above his hip in admonishment and making him jolt. He turned a glare to his boyfriend, who was just looking at him innocently.

“You’re not funny,” Carlos grumbled as they slowly made their way up the stairs. Technically, TK was practically dragging him up the steps since he could hardly register where each step began and ended but minor details.

He didn’t need to look up to know that TK’s eyes were shining with amusement, lips curled in a wide smile with its edges softened by affection. “I’m actually very funny, you’re just grumpy when you’re tired. And on the verge of a fever.”

“Am not.” Carlos huffed petulantly, which probably just further proved TK’s point, but the latter wisely chose not to comment on it. They reached the last step and Carlos made a beeline for his bed, flopping down face-first into the soft sheets, legs dangling off the edge, humming appreciatively.

Soft and warm, perfect after a horrendously long shift with a persisting headache.

He didn’t bother moving when hands gently lifted the rest of his body to lie on the bed, the very same hands then reaching underneath him to try and undo his belt.

“You’re going to have to do all the work,” Carlos mumbled; eyes still shut tight. TK snorted, the hand stopping their administrations to swat his thigh lightly.

“I’m trying to make sure you sleep more comfortably. I’ve done my fair share of passing out in uniform and the morning after is never pretty.” TK has successfully removed his belt now, and Carlos half-heartedly lifted his hips to help him tug the pants down. “In fact, there was one particularly memorable moment where I almost stabbed myself in the leg with a belt buckle.”

Carlos was suddenly a little more awake than before, mustering the last bit of his strength to look at TK incredulously, turning over on his back. He ignored his head protesting loudly at the movement.

“I’m going to need a full version of that story when my brain can process more than 5 words a minute.”

TK shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’ll never hear it because you’ll forget this ever happened when you wake up.” He finished yanking his pants off and moved to fold them neatly in half over a hanger and placing it on the door hook. Carlos watched him through hooded eyes, absently going along with the motion of changing his shirt before shifting up to lay his head on the pillow.

“So, sleep-related injuries from passing out in work clothes. Another thing to cross off your bucket list.” Carlos gladly accepted the swat on his leg at that.

“One more word about this and I will go sleep on the couch,” TK warned jokingly, walking to the closet and pushing aside some of their clothing. They haven’t made it official yet, but Carlos already had a key – a permanent one, not a spare one that TK currently donned – prepared hidden in his gun safe waiting to be given, and the closet once only filled with his clothes began filling up with their clothes.

“Wha’re you doin’?” He asked blearily, already feeling himself pouting at the lack of warm boyfriend next to him.

“Looking for-ah, here it is.”

TK pulled out another blanket, the one that his mother had knitted for him when he was younger, and the only thing he could tolerate to be wrapped around whenever he was feeling under the weather.

Well, one of the only things.

He watched as TK gently tucked the blanket around him, seeing the familiar smile that lights up his face whenever he sees the design stitched on – a Gemini sign that stood out proudly among a sea of stars. He remembers mapping out imaginary constellations with his fingertips when he was younger, dreaming of what the stars would feel like underneath his touch – if the galaxy could be grasped within the palms of his hands.

“You mentioned the last time that your body temperature tends to go haywire when you aren’t feeling well, and that this was the only blanket you could tolerate,” TK says softly, and Carlos closes his eyes as the back of a cool hand felt his forehead.

“When did I say that?” Carlos mumbled, the haze of sleep threatening to take over, but he pushed himself to stay awake to hear the answer. TK shuffled some things around in the bed before sitting down, back against the headboard. Carlos didn’t hesitate to roll over towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking his face into his stomach, nuzzling into the soft warmth. He heard a fond chuckle, and smiled when featherlight fingers gently stroked his hair.

“I’ll tell you later. You should get some rest.” TK leaned down to kiss his forehead, the awkward angle not deterring him the slightest as he pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t have to stay.” The words came out a little garbled, and Carlos wasn’t sure if TK had heard him at all. He didn’t want to make TK stay with him when he could literally be doing anything else other than sitting with him while he slept off the fever. His arm seemed to protest at that thought, though it could also be his exhaustion at play when he didn’t pull it away from its spot around TK’s mid-section.

There was a pause, before the blanket was tucked around him even tighter, an arm wrapping around him to pull him in further.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

A million butterflies danced to that, fluttering about inside him as he tried to tamper down his quickening heartbeat. He couldn’t stop the lovesick smile even if he wanted to, tilting his head down to try and hide it.

“Plus, who’s going to wring cold towels and change them for you when you wake up? And make sure you actually eat something? Gotta put my paramedic privileges to work somehow.” Carlos grumbled incoherent words at that. Just because he was a living zombie when he was sick, and his whole body ached so badly he could sometimes hardly make it out of bed, let alone make anything to eat…

He’s been taking care of himself alone for years. And realistically, he knew he would be fine if left to his own devices.

“I’ll wait on you, hand and foot.” The words were light, teasing, reminding him of the heated debate they had the other night. There had been some history program playing in the background, and both of them had made varying sounds of contemplation when that particular phrase was said, sparking their usual bickering over the true meaning behind those seemingly innocent words.

This time, the words also carried a pleasantly heavy weight that settled in Carlos’ chest.

He could feel a stinging building up behind his closed eyes, his feelings always a tad bit of a mess when he was sick. They’ve already said the words, and the fact that they loved each other was ingrained in his mind and heart.

But there were also times like this, when Carlos wanted to grab the nearest jar and store the overwhelming love that was spilling out ardently. He wondered if the jar would feel as warm as he felt, what colour it would be, or if there would be enough space to fit it all.

It was times like these, that he would think,

Oh. There you are.

I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

***

One of the things they’ve agreed upon in the early stages of their relationship, was that TK was not to be allowed anywhere near the kitchen or sharp cooking utensils unless there was appropriate adult supervision and two (working) fire extinguishers within five feet. There were one too many incidences where Carlos could practically feel his heart ripping out of his chest and plopping onto the floor, stripping decades off his life.

So, when he comes home to wondrous spices assaulting his senses, he briefly wonders if he accidentally opened the wrong door.

He had been pulling a double when one of his co-worker’s wife went into labour, and he had messaged TK earlier about not knowing when exactly he’d make it home. He had expected to come home to dim lights and silence, thinking his boyfriend would have already gone to bed but he was taken off guard at the lights shining brightly in the kitchen and the soft background music playing from his speakers.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him alerted TK of his presence, and he was greeted with a smile that had his eyes crinkle happily at the sides.

“Hey, you.” His arms automatically spread apart to wrap around his boyfriend, laughing breathlessly at the way TK practically launched himself at him, trailing kisses up his neck.

“Missed me?” Carlos teased, leaning in for a few quick kisses before tucking his face in the crook of TK’s neck, his favourite spot to just breathe and take his boyfriend in after a long day. There was a heavy sigh in response, before he was met with a pair of eyes he never tired of losing himself in.

“It’s nothing new. I start missing you the second you leave our bed in the morning.” TK admits quietly, biting his lower lip nervously as if he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud. Carlos feels the familiar warmth spreading through him, and reaches up to gently pry his bottom lip free. He leans in to gently kiss the tip of his nose.

“Something smells amazing.” A welcome subject change, one that Carlos knows TK is grateful for, and he watches as his lips spread into a slow smile. Tugging on his hand, TK leads him towards the kitchen counter where various bowls of food were laid out.

“Everyone at the station has been giving me lessons. I thought Nancy was scary during training, it’s nothing compared to how she commands the kitchen. Even Paul was terrified but impressed.” TK was laughing as he continued on with a particularly hilarious incident that he repeatedly insisted was not his fault, but Carlos couldn’t help but be distracted by something scraping against his palm.

He looked down to see bandages covering the majority of TK’s fingers, looking like he had just left a particularly bad boxing match. All of his fingers had some sort of wrapping on it, most of them at the tips reaching just above the second knuckle, and a bulkier one on his right ring finger.

He looked back up to see TK smiling brightly without a care in the world, as if his hands weren’t completely covered with the scars of his labour. Not a single finger had been spared, and Carlos swallowed back the lump growing in his throat at how happy his boyfriend looked.

“Grace even swung by to indulge me in her family’s secret chilli recipe. We kind of went all out today in the kitchen, and everyone had enough to feed their entire family and their neighbours,” TK chuckled at the memory, picking up said bowl of chilli and holding it out to Carlos, a carefree grin painted across his lips. “I told them you were pulling a double, and how I wanted to take care of the cooking for tonight. They were more than happy to give me tips.”

Carlos stared at the bowl in front of him, then at TK’s radiant smile, blinking against the mist clouding up his vision. The whiteness of the bandages contrasted sharply against the brown wooden bowl, and he had an overwhelming urge to kiss each and every single one.

Some days, the love he feels for the man before him is overpowering, sparking life in every single motion and touch. Other days, it’s warm and light, just like the perfect summer breeze flowing by in passing, or the sight of the sunrise ascending over the horizon. The gentle waves splashing by his ankles in a soothing beat.

Today, he’s filled with an ache he can’t quite describe. It’s an ache that he wants engraved into his very bones – an ache that he wants to re-live for a long, long time.

He wondered if it was possible to be numbed by pure happiness, not knowing where the tingling feeling in his body started or ended.

Blinking a couple of times to anchor himself to the present, Carlos looked up to see TK’s worried gaze trained on him, the bowl of chilli sitting back on the kitchen counter.

Had he zoned off for too long?

“Judd, Mateo and Marjan sampled everything to make sure they were edible.” TK bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. His hands were twitching imperceptibly, as if he was itching to wring them together but remembered the bandages at the last second. The almost frantic look in his eyes made Carlos shake out of his stupor, and he reaches forward the cup the back of TK’s neck with one hand, running his thumb soothingly along his nape.

“Baby, this is…” Carlos trails off, the ache in him pulsating the more he looked at the culinary production around them.

He feels truly lucky to have TK in his life, and the rest of his found family with the 126. It startles him sometimes, how he’s been living fine on his own for twenty-six years before TK came into his life, but now that he’s gotten a taste of what it was like to have an extra splash of colour, he wants to continue painting the world with all the newfound hues.

“Extra? Over the top? Too much?” TK rambled, and Carlos shook his head, meeting his gaze straight-on.

“Amazing.”

He knows he sounds a little breathless, but TK seems to lighten at that, his nervous smiling relaxing. He silently obeys as TK gently guides him to one of the dining room chairs, arranging him around a little so that he was sitting, facing the gleamingly empty (for now) tableware.

“What would you like to indulge in first, my liege?” TK says playfully, hands kneading into Carlos’ shoulders to relieve the tension from a long day at work. He could feel himself grinning, reaching up a hand to cover one of TK’s, his thumb brushing against the bandages.

“You have been watching way too many historical dramas.” He mused, humming in approval as nimble fingers dug deeper into muscle, alleviating the residual tautness.

“There are only so many episodes of Grey’s I can handle watching without yelling at the medical inaccuracies. House is alright, but the way he treats patients would give him a lifetime of lawsuits he would never be able to climb out of. That in itself could be a whole series.” TK snorts, leaning back to plate some of the food. Carlos tipped his head back to watch him, already feeling his stomach yearning for everything his boyfriend was currently stashing onto his plate.

“I thought the point of watching those shows as a first responder is to enjoy the imperfections.” Carlos smiles fondly as TK lets out a quiet curse when a small piece of potato rolls off the plate, reaching out to grab a napkin to quickly wipe the spot on the counter.

“Pot meet kettle. You forget I watch Chicago PD with you, babe. I’m pretty sure I could recite the entirety of the Austin PD manual and 10-codes off the top of my head just from your heartfelt soliloquies every time they do anything.” TK shot him an unimpressed look, though the wide grin gave away his amusement.

He could feel himself pouting, not liking how true that was. “Yeah? Then what’s a 10-39 then?” Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing he asked the wrong question when a predatory grin split across his boyfriend’s face.

“Something we both have abused in our professional duties,” TK smirked, walking over to place his plate in front of him before settling down at the seat across from him with his own plate, unconsciously linking their ankles together underneath the table.

“Uh, no. I haven’t. I think I would have noticed.” Carlos furrowed his eyebrows, growing more confused at TK’s quiet laughter.

“When I complained about traffic in Austin? And you very sweetly asked for a second round and offered to drive me to work with the light bars and sirens? Ring a bell?” TK wiggled his eyebrows, and Carlos makes a sound of protest.

“That doesn’t count!”

“You still offered. Which definitely counts.” TK chooses that moment to pick up a piece of lettuce to stuff in his mouth, effectively ending the conversation. Carlos rolls his eyes.

“That’s just cutting corners.” He huffs, stabbing into one of the potatoes purposefully, ignoring TK’s foot knocking against him. Conversation lulls for a while, and the more Carlos digs into the hearty meal before him, the more his skin tingles, kindled with warmth.

He reaches forward to squeeze TK’s hand, who in turn looks up at him curiously.

“Thank you. For all of this. It’s… I really appreciate it.” Carlos stutters, the overwhelming wave of emotion sweeping over him again as TK simply gives him that smile. The one smile that always seemed to be reserved for him – a smile he felt privileged to witness, and the smile he wanted to see every day for the rest of their lives.

“I can’t take all the credit,” TK’s smile is fond, no doubt remembering all the antics the entirety of the 126 were subject to earlier that day. “It was a team effort – I’m just glad it turned out alright with minor mishaps.” There was a sheepish look on his face, and Carlos notices how he’s picking at the heavier bandage on his right ring finger. He reaches across the table to take the hand gently in his, lifting it up to tenderly press his lips against it while their gazes were still locked on each other. There was a hint of pink that coloured TK’s cheeks at the gesture, making him smile against the hand still pressed to his lips.

“Minor mishaps, huh?” He remarks absently, but doesn’t push any further. TK curls his hand tighter to squeeze his before pulling back slowly.

“I added some more things to our Netflix queue. Want to call it a night and continue to preach about inaccuracies in medical and police dramas with me?” TK tilts his head invitingly, his eyes shining with mirth, and Carlos just wants everything with him.

“I’ll get the popcorn.”

***

Leave work at the door.

That’s what his father had always done when he was growing up. All talk of casework, of work stress, were almost always shed like a layer of skin when he came home, a wide smile present on his lips as he lifted him up into a hug and gave his unruly curls a fond ruffle.

Which was why he was currently still at the station at 10:34pm, finishing up the unexpected paperwork that couldn’t wait when they had been called in to a tip just before his shift ended.

Sighing in both exhaustion and frustration, Carlos glared at the offending words in front of him, his pen tapping restlessly against the table as he chewed on his lower lip.

He had promised his little boy that he would make it home tonight to finally watch the new Disney movie together as a family, maybe even build a pillow fort. Now, that promise felt like a scar etched upon his heart bleeding through his every thought as he tried to focus on the papers in front of him.

Their schedules would start being asynchronous again tomorrow, and although it made it easier so that one of them could always be with their son when the other was on a shift, Carlos missed his husband. He missed coming home to more than just a passing kiss as the other left for their shift, he missed going to bed with a warm body to wrap around him, he missed seeing that smile he’s loved more and more every single day for the past seven years for longer than five seconds.

They tried to have at least one evening a week to just be husbands, to spend time with their son together as a unit, but the case he had been working on for months finally had a breakthrough and they hadn’t gotten proper family time for close to a month.

It was times like these that he didn’t get the usual satisfaction of seeing the nameplate Detective Carlos Strand-Reyes on his desk.

“That’s a very impressive scowl you have going on there, detective.”

Carlos almost falls out of his spinning chair at the amused voice speaking lowly in his ear and spun around abruptly to see TK grinning at him, their three-year-old son Micah in his arms giggling happily.

“Papa!” Micah’s ecstatic voice echoes through the almost-empty precinct, and Carlos immediately catches him in his arms when his son practically launches himself into them.

“Micah! TK, what –” Carlos was a little lost for words, but tampers down the confusion when Micah squishes his cheeks between his tiny hands, grinning broadly. He was sure if his partner hadn’t left to grab them another coffee, she would be taking pictures to last her a lifetime.

“Have gift!” Micah declares proudly, his legs shuffling excitedly as he sat down more comfortably in his lap, and Carlos tips his head up for a quick kiss with his husband before looking at TK questioningly.

“Our son didn’t like how you would be spending movie night alone doing work,” Carlos couldn’t help a laugh at TK’s terrible impression of their son. “So, we decided that since you couldn’t come to us, we would bring family to you.” TK’s expression softened at the end, and Carlos could see how his eyes were taking him in fully, his own eyes doing the same.

He notices his partner arriving back to the precinct then, pausing in the doorway of their shared office. Her eyes lit up with understanding, sending him a quick wink before mouthing out a ‘more for me,’ and gestured to the two coffee cups in her hands. She lifted one of the cups as if in cheers, and quietly slinked away to take a break elsewhere.

Carlos mentally noted to send her a gift basket sometime.

“But you were looking forward to watching the movie.” Carlos looks at his son, and Micah frowned up at him, looking at him like he had suddenly grown two heads.

“Moo’ night is moo’ night ‘cause we all there. Papa, daddy, me. Two…two…” Micah furrowed his eyebrows as he tries to remember the word and TK gently cuts in.

“Together, sweetheart.”

“Together!” Micah repeats louder, and Carlos kind of wants to cry.

TK lifts up a plastic bag between them, and he knows exactly what’s in there when Micah’s eyes light up mischievously.

“Really, Strand?” Carlos deadpans, a smile twitching on his lips at TK’s indignant pout. “A sugar rush near midnight?”

“It’s Strand-Reyes. I didn’t marry you in the pouring rain with a broken foot just for you to neglect the second half of my name. And some occasions require processed sugar no matter what time it is.” TK says softly, and Carlos is momentarily taken back to that memorable day five years ago, where everything that could have gone wrong actually did go wrong, as if testing their brush with fate.

But in the end, love won. Which meant come hell or high water, they would be standing on that altar, no matter how many hours they had to stay at the hospital afterward in lieu of their planned honeymoon.

When he looks up into TK’s eyes, he could tell his husband had been thinking the same thing, and they shared a private smile.

“It’s chocolate.” TK grins, wiggling the bag enticingly as if his favourite flavour would make him cave, when he in fact had already caved a long, long, time ago.

“What a coincidence. I have French vanilla.” Carlos smiles as TK looks at him knowingly. He had let it slip once that he always kept a batch of French vanilla ice cream, TK’s favourite, in his private minifridge in the office ever since that night a couple of weeks into his new detective role when TK had come into the precinct soaked to the bone and on the verge of tears.

The news was never kind, and his fiancé had to find out through the grapevine that there had been a nasty altercation with the case he had been assigned to and immediately ran out of their house to search for him when he didn’t answer his cell phone. It was somehow the only thing they had at the precinct that day, and TK had stayed beside him for the rest of his shift, occasionally taking bites of the ice cream and cuddling close.

Now, the particular flavour of ice cream served more as both of their comfort food whenever they wanted to feel each other’s presence during a long shift, and sometimes just seeing the familiar packaging immerses him in comfort.

“Papa get break?” Micah’s question pulls him out of his thoughts, and he kisses the top of their son’s curls, smiling affectionately.

“It’s a good thing I have spoons, then.” Carlos pulls out the drawer meant for miscellaneous things, and takes out three plastic spoons from their packaging. He also reaches into the fridge to take out the container of ice cream, with TK doing the same with the two chocolate flavoured ones in the plastic bag. His husband passes one container to each of them, graciously accepting the one in Carlos’ hands extended to him before hopping on to sit on his desk.

“Papa happy?” Micah asked between spoonfuls, and Carlos hugs him tighter against him, leaning his cheek against the back of his head. He looks up at TK who’s watching them fondly, and he has a sudden urge to hug them tightly and never let go. He leaves that for when they all finish their midnight treats, instead reaching out to squeeze TK’s leg and kiss his son’s cheek, feeling lighter than air.

“I’m always happy when I’m with the two of you.”

***

Years of laughter, hours of tears. Days of contemplation, millions of joyous occasions.

And you were in every single one of them.

“We are getting too old for this.”

TK makes a sound of disbelief, turning to shoot him a glare that’s just as piercing as they had been in their younger days, his green eyes sparkling with life.

“Says you, Mr. I’m-seventy-four-but-can-still-lift-double-your-weight. Age shaming will not be a thing that gets between us.” TK scowls, and Carlos laughs at the way the wrinkles that came with age and years of laughter and joy deepened. His husband’s hair was now almost completely grey, matching his own, and yet…

Tyler Kennedy Strand-Reyes was just as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on him.

“My hips are already protesting, and you haven’t even asked me to stand yet.” Carlos mused, laughing as TK extended his hand to him then, looking down at him in exasperation. The dim light from the fireplace lit up his husband’s features in flashes of brief memoirs, with each passing of the flame’s light echoing a different time in their life.

“And when have you ever said ‘no’ to me?” TK raises an eyebrow, his fingers wiggling in front of him, and Carlos touches the palms of their hands together, admiring how well they fit together, even after all these years.

“Plenty of times,” Carlos responds, even as he gets up all the same. Like two pieces of matching puzzles, they fit together effortlessly. The lulling chords to a song whose name was just at the tip of his tongue was playing softly in the background.

“And your hips move just fine,” TK murmurs in his ear teasingly, and Carlos could feel the wide smile against his neck as he laughs.

They sway together, both of them lost in their own worlds. Carlos closes his eyes as he latches on to this moment just like all of their many others through the time they’ve spent together.

“Feeling wooed yet, babe?” Carlos couldn’t hold back a shiver at the warm current of air brushing past his ear, squeezing TK’s hip at the knowing smile pressed against his shoulder. It never ceases to amaze him how far they’ve come since the beginning, never once letting go of each other’s hands, facing anything life threw at them as a team.

All these years, and Carlos still remembered the night that forever altered their futures crystal clear. Two imperfect souls, meeting in the middle. Willing to share each other’s worlds, learn each other’s purpose, and choosing to love through it all.

Shifting back slightly so that he could look into TK’s eyes, the beautiful green orbs that never failed to be filled to the brim with adoration since that night under the stars, Carlos smiles.

“TK, baby,” He reaches up a hand, cupping his husband’s cheek and feeling his heart stutter when he didn’t hesitate to lean into his hold. Tilting his head to gently press their foreheads together, Carlos revels in the tender warmth of their bubble of intimacy.

It’s with shining eyes as he continues.

“You’ve been wooing me our entire lives.”

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #Fluff #A love through the years #Prompt fill #bellakitse

59 notes · View notes

whumpcollector · 3 years

Text

Project CHIMERA Pt.1: A New Age

Hey everyone. I’ve had this little project stewing for a long while. I’m experimenting with the writing style and such so please give me any feedback you have! (Also formatting this thing has been a nightmare so if anything comes off as difficult to read please lmk and ill fix it)

TW: Dehumanization. Themes of imperialism. Descriptions of blood and injury.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 1

Date: Celendor 3, 991

It is a glorious day. Truly it is. Today marks the beginning of project CHIMERA. I have been assigned to lead this project by Emperor Vystlat himself, an honor I intend to prove myself worthy of. The equipment is still being set up and the facility brought to full function, but within the week we will be able to begin the production of the first batch of clones. All going well we will have our first subjects by the end of Celendor.This will be a new age for the empire.

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 4

Date: Celendor 12, 991

The first batch of clones are growing better than anticipated. Within two days they have already passed the embryonic stages and have reached infancy. If this rate continues they will be juveniles within three days at most, and we will be able to begin the initial stages of CHIMERA ahead of schedule. This is better than I ever could have hoped for. Soon the need for the empire’s children to die in order to spread our prosperity will be gone. Soon, the glory of the empire will go uncontested.

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

---Security Clearance Level: 5---

Official Report of Progress: Project CHIMERA

Date: Celendor 12, 991

My glorious Emperor Vystalt,I am more than pleased to report that project CHIMERA’s progress has been greater than I ever anticipated. The first batch of clones have reached the juvenile stage and are being awoken as I write this report. After a day of acclimation we will be able to begin their training. Initial physiological tests have revealed that cell growth rates and immune system responses are greatly enhanced compared to the average human’s. With further research we may be able to adapt these properties to other medical fields. While I do not wish to get ahead of myself, the prospective avenues of research are truly promising.

I shall personally inform you of any and all major developments.

May our glory shine upon the world,

-Dr.Archimedes Yarru

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 6

Date: Celendor 13, 991

It appears that our genetic manipulation has worked a bit...too well. These clones are not the blank slates that we had anticipated, but have managed to develop personalities during their time in incubation. The good news is that the information we imprinted them with during the incubation phase has stuck as well. We won’t need to teach them the basics. In theory their training can continue as normal, but some issues have reared their ugly heads. We are already receiving resistance to the idea of training from some of the subjects, and an alarming amount of them have developed dispositions that aren’t exactly compatible with being a soldier. Still, this is a minor setback at most and I have been assured by the training staff that things will progress as intended. I hope they know what they’re doing, but the emperor chose them personally so they must be good at their job.

Despite this hiccup I can’t help but be hopeful for the future. Every other aspect of CHIMERA has gone off without a hitch. I’m already seeing promising results from my initial tests of the clone’s blood and muscle cells. I will have to study them closer to get better results, but that will come in time.

Damn it's been 22 hours since I last slept. I should probably do that now.

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

Celendor-15-991

To: allstaff

Subject: Plans going forward and clarification of CHIMERA details

It has come to my attention that there has been some confusion throughout the staff, both due to the unforeseen personalities of the clones and with general project protocol. Allow me to rectify these issues here.

[1] The classification of all subjects are as follows. Please remember this to avoid any failures of communication in the future.

Stage gamma: Subjects in the initial stages of testing. They will physically resemble adolescents, generally ages 12-15.

Stage beta: Subjects that are through initial training stages and have been curated into specified roles to receive specialized training. They will also reach physical maturity, resembling 20-22 year olds before their biological development and aging slows.

Stage alpha: Subjects that have finished training and are capable of being sent into the field.

Note: The ages attached to each stage are to provide a reference point to help identify subjects at a glance. Subject’s early rapid aging and the subsequent cessation of said aging makes any attempts at estimating age past a certain point futile. Please refrain from doing so

Addendum: This also means that there will be no attempts at assigning or recognizing birthdays. Yes Arthur, we mean you. Sate your addiction to cake on your own time

[2] Despite the unintended development of personality within subjects all current training protocols and methods will be utilized. The head of the training staff has asked that I pass along this message

*[While I understand that these new developments may be difficult to handle for some of you, it is imperative to remember that these clones are not people. They are more akin to automatons or even puppets. There will likely be many attempts to resist our training, do not waver. These clones are meant to be the bulwark of the empire. They need to be forged and tempered into weapons of war. If that requires us to break them first we must accept that. Use a heavy hand, accept not disobedience, and do whatever it takes to ensure the compliance of the clones.

Taskmaster Grestin]

[3] Remember that project CHIMERA is still in experimental phases. The genetic makeup, physiology, and even mental development and reception to training will vary from batch to batch and even subject to subject. Adapting to such differences will be crucial to ensuring progress of the project. If you happen to notice any abnormal physiological phenomena or behavioral anomalies please report to me. While these subjects are meant to be made into soldiers for the empire they also provide a plethora of opportunities for other fields of research. Within that vein, please refrain from killing the subjects. I understand that taskmaster Grestin’s previous statement emphasizes the importance of discipline but please, do show some restraint when possible. Creating these subjects is currently an expensive and, quite frankly, unreliable process despite our initial success. There is a reason this first batch only consists of 10 subjects. Please do not lower that number.

-Dr. Archimedes Yarru

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 9

Date: Celendor 19, 991

Well Grestin has definitely earned the title taskmaster. I get that any training intended to produce super soldiers is going to be intense but, damn. I’m almost worried that she’ll kill the subjects long before they get into stage beta. Hopefully I’m just being overly anxious. I trust that Grestin won’t push them too harshly too quickly.

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

Medical Report: Subject Gamma-A-8

Date of Admission: Celendor-20-991

Subject Gamma-A-8 was submitted to the facility infirmary at 8:26 AM on the 20th of month Celendor, year 991 by staff member Jules Armidin. Subject Gamma-A-8 was admitted due to severe injury and physical exhaustion. A complete list of afflictions has been attached to the report.

After initial treatments Subject Gamma-A-8 has been stabilized and is currently recovering. It is estimated the subject will be fully recovered within 10-14 days with no long term injuries or afflictions.

Attached - Trauma_Report_GAMMMAA8

[ Subject Gamma-A-8

Muscle tearing located in the left and right biceps, triceps, and pectorals

Hairline fractures located in the left ulna, left and right radius, and sternum

Compound fracture located at the tibia

Eye spasms indicative of long term sleep deprivation Mild concussion

General bruising located across the arms, legs, and abdomen

Lacerations across the back ]

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 10

Date: Celendor 20, 991

At least the subject didn’t die. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr Yarru’s Personal Log.

Entry 11

Date: Celendor 21, 991

Well if anything at least I have been able to study how the subject’s body responds to physiological trauma. The results are nothing short of remarkable. Almost all of the major injuries have been healed to the point of not impairing the body's functions, including bone fractures. I was as shocked as the doctors when a compound fracture seemingly mended itself overnight. It hasn’t fully healed, but the subject is capable of moving the leg to a degree, which is still nothing short of amazing. Accelerated Healing was something that was coded into their base genetics but this is more than what we could have ever expected.

I wonder if this trait is shared by all subjects or if Gamma-A-8 is a special case. Perhaps Grestin’s methods will prove fruitful in more ways than one.

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

Dr Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 14

Date: Celendor 28, 991

It has been less than one month since the beginning of project CHIMERA and the results are already beyond my wildest dreams. Despite my initial reservations almost every subject has taken to the training regimen, no doubt due to Grestin’s expertise.

Note to self: Don’t piss her off

Subject Gamma-A-8 has had a difficult time keeping up with the other subjects. Despite the subject’s remarkable natural healing it seems unable to match the raw strength and speed the other subjects possess. I am hopeful that it will be able to catch up, or at least be able to function adequately in whatever role it is assigned. If not, well, 90% success rate is still more than acceptable given the circumstances.

I feel as if I have gathered as much data as I can working on the peripheries. Blood samples and medical reports are all well and good but they can only get me so far. I haven’t had a chance to interact with any of the subjects thus far. I think it's about time that I change that.

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

Tags: @haro-whumps @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

#whump #sci fi whump #dehumanization #Dr. Yarru

7 notes · View notes

jurijurijurious · 3 years

Text

Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced... He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling. He needed rest. Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry. So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing. His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes. His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance. But that was enough. Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks. And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her. There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her. This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent. It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens. Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

#memes #writerly ephemera meme

9 notes · View notes

theburntleaf · 3 years

Text

Experiment in formulation

In a continuation of stick making experiments: I still need to formulate my own working blend before I feel I can say I’ve completed this incense course I’ve been working on. So I’m back at it again. First thing was to set a bit of tamarack resin on a charcoal, deep breath, and ...

It’s Friday so I’m looking to Venus for inspiration. (but this batch is just an experiment)

Venusian dhoop sticks

My first step is processing my base material. Cherry wood is the choice and I’m making sure to get as much powder (what settles on the cap of the coffee grinder) before adding the sifted material (a bit more granulated). This was a pretty time consuming but necessary process of grinding and collecting repeated. In taking a lesson from my last two attempts at sticks (one successful one not) I want to cut the wood powder with another base material and since I’m letting Venus inspire this one I’m going to add a bit of mallow root. I have to remeber that this also acts as a binder when adding more later in the mix.

Moving to the herbacous blend I looked in my collection of plants for bodacious Venusian players. Rose of course stood out (my roses aren’t the most fragrant but they are still nice), but the scarlet bee balm flowers where calling to be worked with. I brought up some yarrow but later decided the aroma wouldn’t be right. I also thought about adding some hibiscus flowers but then figured it was best to keep it local and simple. Plus I am really thinking the bee balm (bergamot) and rose aromas will play well together.

In wanting to boost the aroma with some resin, propolis seems like a welcomed addition. (I know bees are usually said to be martial but I think they embody Venus as a war goddess and as an overseer of sexual nature) And the most beautiful smelling tamarack resin will also accompany this blend.

Considering the marshmallow root, I’m adding guar gum in small amounts at a time until the dough comes together along with some water (future renditions might be made with wine). The dough only needed one pinch of binder before it came together beautifully. Fingers were crossed as I loaded it into the extruder. (I was an impatient nelly and didn’t let the dough sit at all). Loaded with the larger tip my first stick came out perfect! I switched to the smaller tip to make some fine skinny sticks... a no go. They were coming out but breaking apart. I bet they would have worked if I let the dough sit some but I also am going to print a new tip with a slightly larger opening and see if that also helps. I put back on the larger tip and finished extruding. Some of them came out a little funky but I’m going to make a drying board eventually so they are all nice and straight. I said a little prayer over them before I put them to dry (please don’t crack please burn well🙏)

(The dough is pretty!)

Test recipe

5 tsp cherry wood, 1 tsp marshmallow root, 1+1/4 tsp rose, 3/4 tsp bee balm, 1/8 tsp propolis, 1/8 tsp tamarack resin, 1/16 tsp guar gum, 2 tbs water (+ a quick dip under the faucet)

Even though this batch contained store bought marshmallow root I’m going to dub this blend a local craft as everything in it I have growing around. (guar gum doesn’t count becuase binders are another ball game)

I did have a couple sticks crack on me during drying but I kind of saw that coming based on how they extruded. I think this could have been avoided by letting the dough rest and absorb some moisture. It did dry to be a beautiful dark pink color though.

Test burn

I definitely have been having luck burning, so far all of my recipes (including this one) burn all the way through with no issues (with perhaps it maybe burning to fast). The scent is overwhelming dominated by the warm sensual woodiness of the cherry. The top note is slightly smoky but there is a constant of floral rose though very quiet compared to the bold woodiness. Resinous undertones give the aroma a bit of base note and every so often wanders in a hint of bees wax.

I definitely think this blend needs some balancing out but it was a great lesson. My main objective was to create a stick that held together, burned all the way, and smelled...decent. Which is what I have here ! I’ve gotten to the point where I feel more comfortable playing around more with the ratios of base material to aromatics, since they burn so well. In the future I will add more resins which will help the blends aroma while also slowing down the burn. I also might up the amont of herbacous material to wood powder especially in blends that don’t have waxy leaves or oily seeds. Getting the smaller sticks to work right will also be an improvement as I noticed in my last stick blend the skinny ones have a more refined aroma then the thicker ones. I’ll let these sticks sit in a glass jar to cure for a little longer and see if the scent improves but at least I’m personally a big fan of woody incense. I’ll do a redo of this blend sometime soon because I’m excited to work with it to perfection.

#incense journal #formula #Venus #local craft #I made these yesterday obviously #but they take a day to dry

39 notes · View notes

letterboxd · 3 years

Photo

Lonesome Cruiser.

Blockbuster composer Tom Holkenborg, aka Junkie XL, talks to Gemma Gracewood about composing for titans, his pride in Dutch cinema, friendship with George Miller and longing for Olivia Newton-John. Plus: his Letterboxd Life in Film and why he’s selling his prized collection of recording gear.

It has been a spectacular spring for Tom Holkenborg, the Dutch musician also known as Junkie XL, who has crafted the scores for multiplex fare such as Mad Max: Fury Road, Deadpool, Terminator: Dark Fate, Sonic the Hedgehog and the upcoming zombie banger Army of the Dead. Only weeks apart, two blockbusters landed on screens with his sonic stamp all over them: Adam Wingard’s Godzilla vs. Kong and Zack Snyder’s re-realized Justice League.

Thankfully, the Godzilla vs. Kong score was complete by the time the Justice League telephone rang. Holkenborg—who had lost the Justice League gig along with Snyder the first time around—knew the Snyder cut was coming; he had closely watched the growing calls for it online. “Zack and I already started talking in 2019. He’s like, ‘What if we were to finish this? What would it take?’ Those conversations turned to ‘Well, how many recording days potentially do you need and how much of an orchestra do you potentially need?’ Finally, somewhere in April 2020, that’s when that phone call came: ‘Okay, light’s green, start tomorrow, and start running until it’s done because it’s four and a half hours’.”

Ray Fisher as Cyborg in ‘Zack Snyder’s Justice League’.

Holkenborg approaches the titanic task of blockbuster film scoring with an engineer’s mindset: “Building a fantastic, huge house with 20 bedrooms and the dance hall and the kitchen… You’re not going to start by building the third bathroom for the third guest room, right?” Once he has identified the scenes that are most important to his directors—for Snyder, they included the introduction of Cyborg, three fight set-pieces, and a scene of The Flash running that comes towards the end of the film—the composer identifies instrumental “colors” in order to build a theme around each character. Then he holds some of those colors back, theorizing that “if you want like an, ‘Oh!’ experience by looking at a painting that has a huge amount of bright yellow in it, it’s way more successful to see fifteen paintings in front of it, where yellow is absent.”

The Godzilla vs. Kong score satisfies Holkenborg’s life-long love of both characters. “I don’t have a preference for either one. I love them both for various different reasons.” Their respective histories fascinate him: Godzilla as a way to make sense of Japan’s nuclear fall-out, and Kong as a gigantic spectacle that ended up attracting the sympathies of the audiences he was supposed to scare. Even when the science makes no sense (“what the fuck are plasma boosters, anyway?!”), Holkenborg is still happy to wax lyrical about the emotional depth of Kong’s stories, the elaborate concepts of the Godzilla-verse, and his musical approach to the pair—dark, moving brass for Godzilla, with synthesized elements “because he is a half-synthesized animal”, and a more organic, complex orchestration for Kong, featuring “one of the world’s bigger bass drums”.

Adam Wingard’s ‘Godzilla vs. Kong’.

All of this seat-shaking bombast is composed on an “insanely massive sound system” in Holkenborg’s small home studio (though he reassures pandemic-stricken film lovers that he has recently seen both Godzilla vs. Kong and Justice League on his laptop—and “really enjoyed watching it like that”). The process, he says, was “pretty intense”, but only in terms of the sheer amount of score needed. Composing in quarantine was not much different from his usual workflow. “I’m a pretty lonesome cruiser anyway. Composing, by nature, is like a solo exercise—obviously with assistance.”

Like many creatives (Bong Joon-ho recently told a film studies class that he is up at 5:00am most days to watch a movie), Holkenborg is an early riser, waking by 4:00am. “I’m super sharp between like 4 or 5:00am and 9:00am, so I like to do a lot of creative work in that slot.” He takes care of business until mid-afternoon, when another creative spurt happens. “And then I have another batch of calls usually to make, and then around 8:30pm, I’m going to retire for the rest of the day and just chill out a little bit and watch stuff that I want to see, read things that I want to read. Right now I’m studying Portuguese.” By 10:30pm, he’s asleep. “And then at three o’clock I get up.” (Needless to say, Holkenborg’s children are no longer small.)

The pandemic simplified a lot of things for a lot of people: for Holkenborg, it has been a moment to tidy up the physical side of his work. In November last year, he opened an online shop to divest the bulk of his gear—synths, pedals, guitars, drum machines and much more—that he has been collecting since the late 1970s. When friends told him he’d regret it, he disagreed. “At some point I’m going to die. I can’t take them to the afterlife. I also found out I don’t need them. I love to have them around, but I don’t need them.”

Tom Holkenborg with the bass drum used in the ‘Godzilla vs. Kong’ score.

It certainly solves the question of what he’d take if his house was on fire. “The hard drives with sounds and music over the last 40 years, 45 years, that’s hard to replace. So, that would be it. I’m just thinking about things that are absolutely irreplaceable and there are not that many, really.” Alas, it’s bad news for that bass drum. “I can’t take that with me when the house is on fire. Unfortunately, it’s going to make the house burn longer.”

Anyone who has interviewed or spent time with Holkenborg will agree: he may be a lonesome cruiser, but he is also personable, funny, loves to settle in for a chat. As he lights his second or third cigarette in readiness for his Life in Film questionnaire, I’m curious about his relationships with the esteemed filmmakers he has worked with—who include his mentor, Hans Zimmer, directors Sir Peter Jackson, Tim Miller, Robert Rodriguez and, especially, Fury Road’s George Miller.

The story of how Holkenborg scored Mad Max: Fury Road bears retelling: that George Miller did not want a soundtrack (“he was convinced that the orchestration of sounds of the cars would be enough to carry the whole movie”), that Holkenborg was only brought in to create a little something for the Coma-Doof Warrior’s flame-throwing guitar, that they hit it off, the job grew, and grew, into a score that covers almost the entire film.

The Coma-Doof Warrior in ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’ (2015).

What is his best memory of Fury Road? “Well, obviously, when I saw the movie for the first time and I was like ‘what the hell am I looking at?’,” he laughs. “What I mostly look back on is the friendship that I developed with George and the film school one-on-one that I got admitted to, while being paid at the same time, to study with somebody like him. We would talk all night about all kinds of things and nothing, because that really defines our relationship so much—a joint interest in so many different things.”

Happily, Holkenborg and Miller are working together again, on Three Thousand Years of Longing. “It’s really great to be in that process with him again. It’s just like about pricking each other with a little needle. It’s like, ‘Oh, why are you saying that?’ We do that with each other to keep each other sharp. ‘Oh, but if you’re doing this, I’m going to be doing that.’ And then, ‘Oh, if you’re doing that, I’m going to be doing this.’ So it’s really interesting.”

What is your favorite Godzilla film?

Tom Holkenborg: 1989’s Godzilla vs. Biollante. It’s a very obscure one where he’s basically fighting a giant rose. Let’s not look for the logic there.

Why has that particular Godzilla captured your heart? It’s so corny. Yeah. Mothra vs. Godzilla is also great. Mothra looks like a very bad Arabian carpet that was imported through customs and it got delivered by FedEx completely ruined and then laid outside for like four weeks in the rain.

‘Godzilla vs. Biollante’ (ゴジラvsビオランテ, 1989).

What is the first film you remember seeing in a cinema? Bambi. I was six years old, yeah.

And is there a film you have fond memories of watching with your family—a movie that became a family favorite? Not, like, a family favorite because our opinions were too diverse for that, but the next movie that became very important to me when I was a little older was Saturday Night Fever. I thought the soundtrack was, like, groundbreaking, mind-blowingly insane. It’s not necessarily those three massive beats of the Bee Gees on there, but all these other really alternative, left-field tracks by bands like Kool & the Gang. And the way that that darker disco music played against that really dark movie about what it’s like to live in New York and become a competitive dancer, it’s incredible. And still, today, it’s one of the movies where film music and the film itself had so much impact on me, even though it’s not a traditional film score in that sense. It’s incredible.

What is the film that made you want to work in movies, given that you also have a whole musical career separate from movies? (Enjoy Junkie XL’s early 2000s remix of Elvis Presley’s ‘A Little Less Conversation’.) For me, the move from a traditional artist into film scoring was a very slow gradual process. There’s not one movie that pushed me over the cliff. It’s just, like, all the great movies that were made. And I still have a list of obscure movies, classic movies that I need to see.

Yesterday I saw the weirdest of all, but I do want to share this: the original, uncut R-rated version of Caligula, [from] 1979. He [director Tinto Brass] was notoriously brutal and he organized orgies and had terrible torturing techniques. But it’s really weird, there’s Shakespearean actors in there, and then it goes to full-on porn sections. It’s really weird. The music is incredible. You can find it online. You will not find it anywhere [else]. I can just imagine what this must have felt like in 1979 when the film came out. Suspiria, that’s another one. It’s just like, how weird was that thing?

What is your favorite blockbuster that you did not compose? Ben-Hur. I’ve seen that one at least 20 times.

What’s your all-time comfort re-watch? The movie I’ve seen the most is Blade Runner. It’s just, like, it’s a nice world you’re stepping into, that fantasy. It’s not necessarily because I have memories [of] that movie that brings me back to a certain time period, it’s not that. It’s just that I just love to dwell in it. It feels a little bit like coming home. You can use it as comfort food, you can use it as, “I’m not feeling anything today”, or the opposite. You feel very great and you feel very inspired and it’s like, “Oh, let’s go home and watch that movie again.”

Terrence Malick’s ‘The Thin Red Line’ (1998).

Hans Zimmer has been an important mentor to you. Do you have a favorite of his scores? Yes, The Thin Red Line. It’s also the filmmaking of Terrence Malick—he forces a composer to think a certain way. He would always say, “It’s too much, make it less, make it smaller, make it this, make it that.” So, A, it’s a very good movie and B, he got Hans into the right place and Hans just over-delivered by doing exactly the right things at the right time and then shining just because of that.

Who is a composer that you have your eye on and what is one of their films that we should watch next? It’s so sad to say, but I mean, let’s call it like a retrospective discovery if you will. I’m so sad that we lost Jóhann Jóhannsson. He was a composer I felt really close to. We started roughly in the same time period making our way in today’s world. Also, Jóhann came from an artist background, even though it was a modern classical background. He made really great records, great experimentation with electronic elements, with classical instruments, and the mix between the two of them—very original way of looking at music. With Denis Villeneuve as his partner in crime the movies that they did were just mind-boggling good, whether it was Sicario or Arrival or Prisoners, and his voice will truly be missed among film composers. So people that are not super familiar with his work, I would definitely check it out.

‘Turks Fruit’ (Turkish Delight, 1973).

What is a must-see Dutch film that we should add to our watchlists? Holland has small cinema, but it has a really rich cinema and a very serious cinema culture. Usually because there’s not enough work in film, people are serious stage performers but then they also act in movies so they understand both really well. And we’ve delivered. There’s a string of actors that make their way to Hollywood or star in well-known series, whether it’s like Game of Thrones, or what we just talked about, Blade Runner. Many directors like Paul Verhoeven, Jan de Bont, the cameraman.

And so a movie that I’d like to pick is an old movie, called Turks Fruit (Turkish Delight) from the 1970s. Rutger Hauer is a younger guy, like, this completely irresponsible guy that starts this relationship with a really beautiful young girl, and they do all these crazy things, they do a lot of drugs and they have a lot of sex. He’s just like a bad influence on her.

Then he finds out she [has] cancer and it’s terminal. And to see him deal with that, and to see him want a change, but also in that change he does a lot of bad stuff at the same time… It was a sensational movie when it came out. And it actually was directed by Paul Verhoeven, one of his earlier films. When you see it, you’re just like, ‘Why am I watching this?’ for the first 45 minutes and then it starts and it’s like, ‘whoa’. So it’s really good, even in retrospect.

Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta in ‘Grease’ (1978).

What is the sexiest film you’ve ever seen? When I was super young, it was definitely Grease, with Olivia Newton-John, when she was in her catsuit at the very end of it. I had her picture on my bedroom, above my bed sideways because I was only like ten years old or something. I was so in love with Olivia Newton-John. It wasn’t the film per se, it was her. Yeah, I find, personally, movies from the ’70s to be more sexy, but it has something to do with the super-loose way that people were dressed and people were behaving.

And the other one was later in life: Basic Instinct. Sharon Stone. I’m not talking about like the famous shot, right, where she crosses her legs. I’m not talking about that, but the way that she acts throughout the whole movie. It’s insane. It’s really great.

Are there any films that have scared you? Like, truly terrified you? Yeah, I’m not a big fan because I get sucked up too much in it. The found [footage] horror movies like Paranormal Activity and things like the Japanese version of The Grudge, I cannot watch that stuff. That gets me too much. Because when I watch a film, I cannot watch it with one eye half open, the other one closed, like, ‘Okay, kind of cool, interesting’. I just get sucked into it.

Is there a film that has made you cry like no other? Oh yeah. Multiple. Once Upon a Time in America. The Godfather. Hable con Ella (Talk to Her). Betty Blue.

Thomas Holkenborg, AKA Junkie XL.

These are the films that make you weep? Not like on a regular basis, but I remember those were the ones that I really got hit. I’m talking particularly about the third Godfather. That whole end scene when they get out of the church and then… It’s really well-acted. So many Godfather fans that were dismissive of the film when it came out, in retrospect, ten, fifteen, 20 years later, are like, ‘it’s a really good film’. And I actually think so.

Final question. Is there a film from the past year that you would recommend, that you’ve loved? [Long pause.] The thing is that I watch pretty much a movie a day. So, that’s like three to four hundred movies. It [has] happened so often that I watch a film and then I’m just like an hour and 45 minutes in, it’s like, ‘wait, fuck, I’ve seen this thing before’.

So, we have an app for that… [Laughs.]