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#its bright colors and noises played in a sequence
animentality · 5 months
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there is a difference between being a hater and having a working human brain that can pinpoint exactly what does or does not work for you specifically in media.
don't be such a mindless consumer, you aren't really appreciating art if you're not thinking about it at all.
and how is that a controversial statement?
"turn off your brain," oh yeah, sure, i know you only use yours for cobweb storage.
but some of us use ours for things other than work.
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transasouras-rex · 3 months
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Kind of a long one, but I wrote a dream sequence I’m kinda proud of and wanted to share :3
Context: this is part of a beauty and the beast inspired love story between a poor inventor’s son and a cursed prince. The inventor’s son has been having nightmares featuring this odd smoky creature since he got to the prince’s castle and they all have to do with fire. Little did he know that his affinity for fire had a bigger reason than he thought. This is the last of those nightmares where he finally accepts the creature and figures out what he’s really capable of.
I opened my eyes to find the fire in the fireplace still alight which was weird considering the logs fueling the fire seemed to be nothing but a pile of ash. I slowly stood up and looked around. The usually bright colors of Philip’s room were dull and muted and Philip was nowhere to be found. The only thing that seemed to retain its saturation was the fire which was louder than when I fell asleep. I could hear every crackle and every little noise that the flames created.
“Listen only to my voice.” A creepy, layered voice echoed from the hallway. Unfortunately it was all too familiar.
“Ah. Shit.” I growled, gritting my teeth, “What do you what?” I yelled. My voice bounced off of the walls of the castle and into the darkness.
The creature stalking my dreams appeared before me. It did not take any shape I was familiar with this time. This time it took the form of a cloud of wispy smoke with embers pulsating within it. It had eyes that appeared to be made of red hot metal only the physical form of the metal wasn’t there. Only heat.
“You do not know your true potential. I am here to help you realize what you are capable of,” It said calmly. Its voice was layered and distorted.
“Help me realize my true potential?” I repeated, “What do you mean? I am an ordinary man.”
“You are much more than an ordinary man, Louis. But the meaning is for you to realize on your own.” The creature said. Its gaze shifted to my face to something behind me. I turned to follow its gaze to find that it was gazing at the fireplace.
As soon as I laid my eyes upon the fire, I felt a strong connection to the roaring flames. Something inside me wanted to harness the fire’s raw power and become one with the flames. It was a familiar feeling. I had felt this way since I was a child, but I had since learned to suppress that curiosity in the name of self preservation. Over time the feeling had faded to a dull throb, but this time it was stronger than I had ever felt before.
I slowly approached the fire and crouched down beside it. I waved my hand over the flames and, to my surprise, they didn’t burn. The flames tickled my palm as if welcoming me. Letting the flames dance around my fingers made me feel like I was finally complete. Like a weight had been lifted off of me or a whole in my chest had been filled. I had lived that way for so long I didn’t notice the discomfort until it was finally gone. I pulled my hand away and the fire stayed in my hand, jumping and dancing around in my palm as if celebrating. Then the fire started to pulse rhythmically as if syncing up with something. It didn’t take long for me to realize it was dancing to the beat of my heart.
“You seem to have found the answer to your own question,” the creature said, watching me play with the fire in my hand. Suddenly everything the creature had said before made sense. Nothing could overcome the warmth of my beating heart. With a whoosh, the creature flew towards me and seemingly merged with my body again. Only this time instead of cutting off my air supply, I felt a surge of power swept through my entire body like a wildfire. The room around me quickly gained its color back as the dullness seemingly burned away. The fire in my palm grew quickly and engulfed my body. I closed my eyes as the fire was too bright to look at. The roaring of the fire was all I could hear as I felt the fire absorbed into my skin. The room was suddenly quiet for a moment before I heard the creature speak one last time before being snapped back into reality.
“You are in control.”
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maihan-dms4-journal · 8 months
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Week 7
After the mid-semester break, I was able to manage my three project timelines better and the outcomes were a bit better than the previous week. I continue to work on the iterations this week, and heading toward the narrowing down and refining process.
Project 1 - uncanny (Capitol Theatre):
Reflection:
During the session in the Capitol this week, I realized that the sound quality was not really great. Some parts of the audio were too brutal (too loud or overly distorted), so the experience of the audience could be affected by this (the audience may feel it upsetting rather than uneasy).
The lighting color was a bit odd. The lighting color that I made in Pharos was darker than what was shown in the Capitol.
The lighting composition, as of now, I think worked quite well. Even though it slightly heads toward surrealism, especially during the part where the sound was played only on 1 side of the theatre, I think it still conveys a sense of weirdness and unease within the audience.
Project Progress:
This week, I have finished the overall lighting design to the whole soundtrack:
I articulated the lighting to follow the human singing voice, then also used the subversion of that pattern (turn off the light when the woodblocks hit).
I tried to create a sense of opening up and collapsing by using the light on the wall and the roof alternating with each other. I think that worked well in terms of subverting the audience's expectations with the audio-visual pattern and also giving a slight sense of spatial confusion.
During the part where the sound played from one side of the room, I articulated the visual to match with the exact sound of the instrument, alternating from one side of the wall to another.
I liked the outcomes of this, however, I still think some aspects could be improved:
For the next step, I will refine the audio to improve its quality and less brutal, however, I think I will keep the noise underneath it to keep a sense of otherness to it.
Adjusting the lighting color to improve the color harmony.
Project 2 - Upside Down People
Reflection:
The feedback from Sara helped guide the direction for the visual development:
Reduce the brightness intensity of the lighting and add blank space in between each light.
It would be more effective to keep the bright lighting in the wall light rather than the roof as the roof may light up the whole theatre.
She suggested adding a bit of green in the sunrise sequence to recreate the feeling of sunlight beaming through trees in the morning.
Research:
A Cinema of Boredom: Heidegger, Cinematic Time and Spectatorship
“profound boredom”, which may arise from an encounter between spectators and films which exhibit moments of slowness, stillness or non-representational images, constitutes a productive mood which allows the subject time to think.
In experiencing “profound boredom” there is a will to let boredom remain awake because we understand that “this boredom wishes to tell us something” (Heidegger, 1929–30/1995, p. 135) […], a productive attunement which brings forth an interrogation of meaning.
In a way, “profound boredom” opposes the pleasure of mainstream entertainment cinema, where pleasure is the (illusory) being filled up, and replaces it with the pleasure of “being left empty”.
Sara suggested we research 'relax showing' as our audience may be more sensitive to sensory stimuli and slow watching can help them to avoid sensory overload. So I think using 'profound boredom' - neither the intention to kill time nor prevent boredom, however, a state of indifference, can exhibit moments of slowness, and give the audience time to think and feel.
Project Progress:
Sara has sent us some footage to better visualize how the scene should look combined with the lighting. I think using a low intensity lighting color (dark tone color) in the wall light should work better during those moments.
According to the feedback, I did some iterations of the opening sequence, adding a bit of green in the color palette, however, I think it is still a bit too bright (as it is shown on the roof, it may light up the whole theatre, which is not really ideal). I think I need to adjust the color tone to appear darker, and more subtle as the animation and audio are already doing the storytelling.
Alana and I will be working together on the opening sequence. We will combine pieces of our work (maybe my nighttime and Alana's sunrise sequence).
Project 3 - Borderline
Reflection:
From the first draft, the footage was too surreal to put in Act 2, which was supposed to be the relief after the climax of the show. Also, the processing overlay and the actual footage were quite mismatched in terms of timing.
Jonno's feedback was that he liked the idea of incorporating the real-life footage of Melbourne with the overlay filters to represent a sense of present yet not quite belonging.
Research:
youtube
I used this technique in the video to convey the passing of time and it also creates a moment of stillness for Act 2.
Project Progress:
According to the feedback, I made some adjustments to the previous draft. I slowed down the footage and then modified the effects to lessen the distortion.
I also filmed some more footage of Melbourne and added different overlays. The footage was edited with the step printing technique to add a slight echoing and blurriness.
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Jonno said he wanted to add different processing overlays on each of them and loop that footages, so I'm now working on it and maybe film some more Melbourne footage to vary the whole visuality. Hopefully, in the next meeting with him, I could show the looping version.
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diskpiner · 2 years
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Imagemagick rotate
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#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE HOW TO#
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE PDF#
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE INSTALL#
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE FULL#
The same command was: pdftk 08-file.pdf cat 1-endR output 08-file-rotated.pdfįrom another post on this site, I have a brief an explanation of the syntax pdftk input.pdf cat 1-endsouth output output.pdf Try : pdftk 08-file.pdf cat 1-endright output 08-file-rotated.pdfįor old version of pdftk (v
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE INSTALL#
So I would recommend pdftk (you may need to install it via apt-get install) Playing with options -compress -density -quality was always frustrating and a waste of time (but i am no expert).
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE PDF#
Set each pixel whose value is less than | epsilon| to -epsilon or epsilon (whichever is closer) otherwise the pixel value remains unchanged.I always had bad results in converting/altering pdf file with imagemagik/convert (bad resolution, or huge file). Size and location of an image canvas (setting)
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE FULL#
Transform image to span the full range of colors Replace each pixel with its complementary color Make each pixel the 'predominant color' of the neighborhood Measure differences between images with this metric Type of rendering intent when managing the image colorĪdd Netscape loop extension to your GIF animationĭelineate arbitrarily shaped clusters in the image Method to generate an intensity value from a pixelĬalculate the sum of values (pixel values) in the image Insert last image into the image sequence Implements the inverse discrete Fourier transform (DFT) Identify the format and characteristics of the image Implements the discrete Fourier transform (DFT)Ĭolor to use when filling a graphic primitiveĬolors within this distance are considered equalĪpply mathematical expression to an image channel(s) Perform histogram equalization to an imageĮvaluate an arithmetic, relational, or logical expressionĮvaluate an arithmetic, relational, or logical expression for an image sequenceĪnalyze image features (e.g. Render text right-to-left or left-to-rightĪnnotate the image with a graphic primitiveĪpply a filter to detect edges in the imageĪpply a digital filter to enhance a noisy image Horizontal and vertical density of the image Improve the contrast in an image by `stretching' the range of intensity valueĬopy pixels from one area of an image to anotherīreak down an image sequence into constituent parts Perform complex mathematics on an image sequenceĬonnected-components uniquely labeled, choose from 4 or 8 way connectivity 65535) otherwise the pixel value remains unchanged.Ĭlip along a named path from the 8BIM profileįorce all pixels in the color range to white otherwise black Set each pixel whose value is below zero to zero and any the pixel whose value is above the quantum range to the quantum range (e.g. Use a multi-stage algorithm to detect a wide range of edges in the imageĬlip along the first path from the 8BIM profileĬontrast limited adaptive histogram equalization Improve brightness / contrast of the image Reduce image noise and reduce detail levels Simulate a scene at nighttime in the moonlight Non-linear, edge-preserving, and noise-reducing smoothing filterįorce all pixels below the threshold into black Transparent, extract, background, or shape the alpha channelĪutomagically adjust gamma level of imageĪutomagically adjust color levels of image On, activate, off, deactivate, set, opaque, copy", Join images into a single multi-image file OptionĪdaptively blur pixels decrease effect near edgesĪdaptively resize image with data dependent triangulation.Īdaptively sharpen pixels increase effect near edges Click on an option to get more details about how that option works. The mogrify command recognizes these options. You can find additional examples of using mogrify in Examples of ImageMagick Usage. They are copies of their respective PNG images except are stored in the JPEG image format. Here image files 1.png, 2.png, etc., are left untouched and files 1.jpg, 2.jpg, etc., are created. You can resize all your JPEG images in a folder to a maximum dimension of 256x256 with this command: magick mogrify -resize 256x256 *.jpgįinally, we convert all our PNG images in a folder to the JPEG format: magick mogrify -format jpg *.png Rose: magick mogrify -resize 50% rose.jpg To get started, let's reduce the size of our We list a few examples of the mogrify command here to illustrate its usefulness and ease of use.
#IMAGEMAGICK ROTATE HOW TO#
See Command Line Processing for advice on how to structure your mogrify command or see below for sample usages of the command. This tool is similar to magick except that the original image file is overwritten (unless you change the file suffix with the -format option) with any changes you request. Use the magick mogrify program to resize an image, blur, crop, despeckle, dither, draw on, flip, join, re-sample, and much more.
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pinercharlotte · 2 years
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Gom player windows 7 64 bit
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GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT INSTALL
GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT FULL
GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT SOFTWARE
GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT FULL
Full Support for your choice of playlists (readM3U, ASX, PLS).
GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT SOFTWARE
Implementation of special effects such as fading, smoothing, color sequence, software conversion, softening, noise inclusion.
Adjusting the image quality and aspects (contrast, brightness, clarity, saturation).
Bookmarks option (memorizing the time of your favorite scenes and its one-click transition).
Repetition of the functions and skipping of frames.
Controlling of the overall regeneration frequency.
Multiple modes of display or screen (monitor, TV, projector).
Full independence from all kinds of external decoders.
Uninterrupted playback of any video format, even on a slow system.
Using the Burst Capture feature, you can take continuous screenshots of up to 999 shots.
Screen Capture: It allows you to take a screenshot of your video directly from GOM Player.
You can also watch DVD-quality videos with 5.1 channel audio output.
Wide support: Along with different media formats such as AVI, MPG, MPEG, and DAT, GOM Player also supports streaming Windows media format (WMV, ASF, ASX).
GOM Media Player has a similar playlist format as M3U, PLS, ASX, and you can also include and edit different media formats on that playlist as well.
Convenient Playlist: If you run a video file and there is already a file with a similar name in the directory, it will be automatically added to your playlist.
You can also enable shadow, view ASF files with subtitle, karaoke subtitle mode. You can specify margin, location, size, resolution, font, and others.
Powerful Subtitle Support: GOM Media Player supports SMI, SRT, RT, SUB(with IDX) files for subtitle.
GOM Player’s patented technology enables users to view files with broken indexes or that are still being downloaded. This is because the index is located at the end of the file.
Play Broken AVI Files: AVI files can’t be played if the index is broken, or if the file isn’t completely downloaded.
For those videos that require a separate codec, GOM Player will find one and direct you to a place where you can download an open-source version of the codec.
GOM PLAYER WINDOWS 7 64 BIT INSTALL
Codec Finder: GOM Media Player includes many codecs (XviD, DivX, FLV1, AC3, OGG, MP4, H263, and more) so you won’t need to install them separate codecs for most videos.You can play any media files with GOM’s built-in codec and Codec Finder service. GOM uses low CPU utilization while giving you the best possible image and subtitle quality and plays incomplete files without buffering. Its strength includes the ability to play some broken media files and also helps to find missing codes using the inbuilt codec finder service. GOM is an alternate player for Windows Media Player which smoothly and supports both 32-bit as well as 64-bit operating systems. This app works on Windows 11, Windows 10, and earlier versions of Windows. It can run each and every video and audio media format, including phone-video formats, digital video, and cameras as well as online streaming media directly from the data service provider. It can also play damaged or incompletely downloaded, corrupt, or copied AVI files on your Windows PC. GOM Media Player is loaded with extraordinary features and provides high-quality output for any size and type of file.
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dustedmagazine · 2 years
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Trophy Hunt — The Branches on Either Side (Self-released)
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The Branches On Either Side by Trophy Hunt
In an instance of tin-eared mischief generated by the digital musical marketplace, Trophy Hunt’s new record The Branches on Either Side has been identified as “grindcore” on Bandcamp. Bewilderingly, the band seems to participate, calling their music “ecstatic grindcore.” Go figure. If the algorithms get you there and you click and listen, you’ll hear a species of skramz, heavy on the emo-violence, with the occasional dose of chaotic hardcore. Trophy Hunt’s songs are loaded with explosive emotional tonality, in accord with the principal subgenre’s ethos, but the record’s production is bright and clear, and its melodic structures are most absorbing when they embrace more conventional song forms. Is it ecstatic? Depends on the listener. Certainly the band energetically hybridizes numerous modes of heavy music, issuing a stimulating record, as adventurous as it is angry. 
Other bands have been plumbing the deep well of skramz in this way. Portrayal of Guilt have worked outward from its sonic roots, incorporating metal muscle, death-driven growls and industrial noise; Cloud Rat have dipped into skramz’s penchant for passionate dramatics — and songs like “Sunchoke” and “Grid” have a reciprocal effect, suggesting that Trophy Hunt has been listening to Cloud Rat’s recent records with some interest. The results on The Branches on Either Side are varied. It’s clear that the band is full of ideas, trying to articulate its own style and sensibility in an increasing complex field of sonic influences.  
And Trophy Hunt is just as clearly pissed off. The negative affect is on sharp display in the record’s opening songs, which are hard, fast and short. But the deeper you get into The Branchers on Either Side, the more interesting the songs become. “Katabasis,” “Sunburst” and “Gate” all stretch out over the three-minute mark, and they cycle through bursts of manic playing, noisy squelching and clean riffing and singing. “Sunburst” flirts with post-punk angularity in its middle section; “Gate” sounds like New Order jamming with Orchid on one of their least mopey days. It’s remarkable that the songs hold together — but for the most part, they do, as experiences in themselves and as a sequence.  
All of that is interesting, but none of it clarifies what the band means by “ecstatic grindcore.” “Pink Noise,” the final track on the record, might be the most emphatic illustration of the phrase. Sonically it’s akin to the more melodic work Fuck the Facts has recently produced, and again, you can hear traces of Cloud Rat’s ultimately inimitable sound. Both of those grind-identified bands are fronted by ferociously talented women, and perhaps the resonance of “pink” is meant to gender the music’s intensities. Certainly gender is an ongoing thematic on The Branches on Either Side. Many of the lyrics are deeply symbolic, more suggestions than assertions. But they are urgent, portentous. In “Branch,” the shrieked vocals describe a “Green that rests / Respite under weeping breasts,” and also “Ophelia’s river, the color of your eyes.” Those are complex images. One hesitates to entreat the band to ground itself, in more straightforward song structures or more accessible lyric messages. Their explosive, disruptive style is an attribute. For sure, this reviewer hopes to hear more of it.  
Jonathan Shaw
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thecrownnet · 3 years
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Congratulations to Adriano Goldman , ASC, BSC, ABC, Director Of Photography, for his Creative Arts Emmy win OUTSTANDING CINEMATOGRAPHY FOR A SINGLE-CAMERA SERIES (ONE HOUR) for season 4 episode 3 ‘Fairytale’ on September 11, 2021. Here are his insights on filming the episode with director Benjamin Caron.
‘The Crown’ Used Lighting and Composition to Trap Its Characters Inside a ‘Fairytale’
Director Benjamin Caron and cinematographer Adriano Goldman discuss how they destroyed Diana and Charles’ marriage before it even began.
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Behind the Scenes of “The Crown” Season 4, Episode 3 Photo: Netflix
Over “The Crown’s” four seasons, the halls of Buckingham Palace have become familiar visual signifiers for both the grandeur and the pressure placed upon the royal family. But in the third episode of this most recent season, “Fairytale,” cinematographer Adriano Goldman and director Benjamin Caron stretched the limits of the show’s visual language to create — and then to destroy — Princess Diana’s (Emma Corrin) fairytale fantasies.
Much of the episode is given over to Diana slowly realizing that, like many princesses stuck in a castle before her, she has fallen into a trap. But Goldman and Caron opened up the ways they shoot their Buckingham Palace sets to show how the demands of the Crown consume everyone on the eve of the fateful marriage.
They force the jaws of the trap open wide with a pre-credits sequence of Diana’s night out with her friends after Charles (Josh O’Connor) proposes to her. The scene is a departure in every sense, not just to the swank ’80s members’ club that Diana frequents.
“You try to deliver something that is more romantic, a little bit more colorful, fun to start,” Goldman said of the sequence in an interview with IndieWire. “We wanted to not change the style too much, but there should be a transition from a very colorful pre-title sequence, a very interesting and more romantic beginning.”
That romance is on full display, most noticeably in the brighter, guadier colors of the club and much warmer tones of Diana’s Earl’s Court flat. But Goldman’s camera also interposes itself almost as a fourth (slightly intoxicated) friend, swinging around inside the girls’ cab to get a look at both Diana and Buckingham Palace, or flinging itself down onto the bed with the girls at the end of the night. The look of the sequence stands in contrast to the stately shots and slow tracks which are the show’s normal rhythm for everyone in the royal family. Well, for everyone in the royal family except maybe Princess Margaret (Helena Bonham-Carter), who gets to dance by a pool every now and again.
“We really considered how we could reverse [that fairytale opening] and be very present with her, and [how we could] make her feel young, actually. Part of this is she’s a young girl going into the palace,” Caron said.
Caron and Goldman gave the audience several visual signifiers that are easy to clock in this sequence, as well as Diana’s goodbyes to her friends that follows: the gold and neon hues of the night out, the warm, eye-level close-ups of Diana dancing in the club, and a signature spiral staircase Diana descends to begin her life as a princess.
Over the course of the episode, these colors will fade. The close-ups inch slightly above Diana’s eyeline, so that it feels like the camera, along with the rest of the Royals, is looking down on her. And when a spiral staircase reappears, it will lead to Diana’s lowest point.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
With Diana ushered inside Buckingham Palace to shield her from the press in the run-up to her and Charles’ wedding, Caron and Goldman emphasized how small and vulnerable Diana looks inside the palace walls. The opening of “Fairytale” had a long shot of the club, and Diana fit snugly within it. Once inside Buckingham Palace, the negative space often overwhelms Diana, and the camera backs away to show just how alone she truly is, perhaps best exemplified in the scene of her grandmother (Georgie Glen) physically tying her up while instructing her in how to speak like a royal.
Caron and Goldman deliberately call back to the romance of the opening to twist the knife, having Diana dance ballet inside the palace and then try to break out of the regimented structure of it as the pressure on her mounts. “I remember sort of holding the frame and I remember the camera operator was trying to follow us, but [I said no,] just hold the frame static and let her move in and around it,” Caron said. “So it really felt like someone trying to break out [of] somewhere.”
But of course, the camera never does let her leave the frame. Unlike the quick, fun cuts of Diana dancing in the club, there is no pressure release here. There is nowhere for Diana to go.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
Caron wanted to use visual features that would feel right at home in a Disney princess story to their most punishing effect and perhaps the most powerful one of these motifs reoccurs when “The Crown” has Diana descend another spiral staircase. “[Ben] was very specific about this spiral because she’s going down on a spiral emotionally,” Goldman said of the shot that leads Diana down to the kitchen, a moment of late night desperation that kicks off her eating disorder. “He didn’t want to follow her on the steps, like on a steadicam. He wanted [the camera to be] facing down and going down with her to the very bottom of her feelings and her emotions.”
Caron described it as going to the “bottom of a well,” once Diana enters the kitchens and becomes enveloped in darkness — except for the fluorescent blues of the refrigerator lights, which makes the space feel like a morgue. This strong use of color, like all the changes in the episode, is grounded in the reality of whatever space Diana finds herself in. But the emotion and, indeed, the foreshadowing that Caron and Goldman are able to imbue those spaces with give Diana’s spiral real visual potency and a visceral sadness.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
What is so thrilling about “Fairytale” is that it spares no one. Two striking scenes toward the end of the episode don’t have Diana in them at all, and yet push the series’ visual language to show how the palace and this marriage will swallow the characters who have been there all along.
In the first of these, Margaret tries to persuade Elizabeth, the Queen Mother (Marion Bailey), and Philip (Tobias Menzies) to call off the wedding. Caron wanted the scene to have a “conspiratorial, almost a Jacobian feel” to highlight the cold, businesslike calculations these four people are making for the happiness of two others.
“I remember saying to Adriano,’no no no, let’s go darker,” Caron said of this sequence and the next one. Goldman also recalled the desire to push the scene even further visually, lighting characters at harsh, dynamic angles or in almost complete shadow, so that the scene would feel spiritually closer to “The Godfather” than to the show’s usual style. The comparison is apt, given the mahogany browns and greens of the sitting room and the firelight that Goldman and Caron used to emphasize shadows falling into the crags on the characters’ faces. Vito Corleone could easily be sitting in a corner of one of those frames.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
The next scene — when Elizabeth goes to find Charles and offer him a final few words on his marriage — Caron and Goldman viewed as a way to visually crystalize their relationship and how it is marred by their obligations to the monarchy. “Wouldn’t it be painful if you had Charles looking out the window and he felt the reflections of the fireworks and the noise and the celebrations outside?” Caron said about how he started conceiving of the blocking and framing of the exchange between mother and son. Each cinematic choice builds from a sense of what would be more painful, what would put more strain on the relationship.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
The filmmakers created this visual strain between Queen and Crown Prince not just by keeping them at opposite sides in the composition, but by keeping one of the pair always just out of focus in the shots with the two of them — they can’t even occupy the same level of detail in the frame. Color plays a role, too, with bright blues and reds from the fireworks, reflections of the Union Jack, always being part of the light through which the audience sees the resigned sadness on Colman’s face and the abject misery on O’Connor’s. Goldman said this is the scene where he realizes he will never escape the system of the monarchy. “He realizes it’s too late. It’s a trap. He’s been trapped.”
“It always comes back to the Crown,” Caron said, and it is really from the perspective of the Crown itself that we watch the characters prepare to head to church on the day of the wedding. When the audience finally sees Diana in her dress, she faces away from the camera and moves into that oppressive cavernous space which has put so much pressure on her throughout the episode. It’s a slow, almost funereal march toward the fate the audience already knows awaits her. Charles, on the other hand, gets the close-up this time. But the camera, with equal grimness, tracks slightly down and in, so that his face begins to loom over the frame, making him look monstrous.
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“The Crown” Season 4, Ep. 3 “The Fairytale” Screenshot
Of course by now, the visual choices that Caron and Goldman made for “Fairytale” have taught the viewer that there is another monster, a much more powerful one, looming over the episode’s final frame: The Crown is the monster that always gets you in the end.
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i-am-infinite · 3 years
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Guilt (Part 2): The Market
(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!F!Reader)
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: violence, mention of blood, needles, crude talk, symtoms of anxiety attack, fluff, angst, implied death and death, let me know if I'm missing any
A/N: This took a while to write because I was really distraught after Chpt 14. Also planning on turning this into a little series. I'm going to try and finish it before my next semester starts in Feb. I also don’t know how to write fight sequences so sorry in advance. 
You see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out screaming, “NO!”
It was supposed to miss him. It missed him before. Instead of bending out of the way, it hits him and the Mandalorian goes down fast. Before you know it, more troopers come, grabbing Dr. Pershing and dragging him away. They start coming towards you when you hear yourself say, “No, please no!” You could run towards the speeders, but there’s too many of them now, they can catch up easier. Looking back at the shiny man, tears leave your eyes. You were supposes to save him. That’s how it was supposed to happen. You start screaming the only name you know for him as a stormtrooper grabs your arms and has them twisted behind your back. Dragging you back to where you escaped from, the stormtrooper is calling your name. 
He keeps calling it as he shakes your arms then follows it with, “Wake up.” Why does that mechanical voice sound different from the rest? The words echo in your head. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 
The stormtrooper helmets transforms into the one of the Mandalorian as you open your eyes. His hands leave your upper arms as he crouches in front of you. Still disoriented, your own hand comes up to your cheeks to shield your face when you realize it feels damp to the touch. Closing your eyes again and taking deep breathes you have to tell yourself over and over again: He’s here. I’m here. It was just a dream. Finally calmed down, you open your eyes to Mando still squatting in front of you. 
“You okay?” His modulated voice says to you. Nodding your head while wiping way the last of the tears, you can’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks, wishing you could just disappear as you sink further into the copilot chair. “You want to talk about it?” he tentatively asks next. If it were anyone else, you would’ve probably said no, but seeing his tenderness as he cared for Grogu over the past few hours in hyperspace makes you give in. 
“We- we were back there, about to get on the speeders,” your heart rate picks up again thinking of it. You have no idea why the dream is affecting you this much. Continuing on with a shaky voice, “The stormtrooper, h- he shot you before I- I could- and” tears were forming in your eyes again, “and they st- started dragging me off and-” your voice suddenly barely above a whisper as you continue, “you weren’t moving.” 
You shouldn’t have shared it. Oh gosh, you wish you could take it back now. He hasn’t said anything. He probably thinks you’re weak now, unable to handle yourself, let alone a nightmare. It was a stupid dream, you are about to tell him when you hear him sigh, “Give me your hand.” Confused, you hesitate, causing him to tilt his helmet to the side and hold out his hand. Giving in, you hold out your own, placing it in his still hesitant. Moving his hand down to your wrist, gripping it lightly as he moves it his chest plate, he speaks again, “Feel this? This is beskar, strong enough to withstand blaster shots. While what you did was impressive, all you stopped from happening is me having to clean my back plate later.” Your face falls at this, noticing it, he brings his other hand over yours. You feel all the heat you have left in your body run up to your face. He declares, “That dream wouldn’t have come true. You’re safe. They won’t get to you again, I promise.” 
Still with your hand against the cool metal, all you can say is, “Oh. Thank you.” You wait for him to let go of your hand and wrist before you pull away, but he still hasn’t. Grogu stirs on the chair to your right, waking up after seeming to have slept through your nightmare. As if the noise startled Mando, he finally lets go and picks up his son. Clanking could be heard coming up from the ladder. 
Mando sits back in the pilot chair with the little green child who keeps trying to reach for the different buttons on his lap, as Dr. Pershing also seems to have finally woken up. Coming into the cockpit carrying a discarded IV bag. Oops. Should have put that back in at some point. 
Pershing comes as squats to the side of your chair, blocked off by the arm rest. “Looks like you’ve got some of your color back, which is good. Just to be safe, you should probably leave this in for longer.” Just nodding your head in response, scared your voice will falter, but now not knowing if it was from the dream or the prolonged touch of the beskar man. Or the fact that Pershing just pointed out how you’re blushing right in front of the person who caused in the first place. 
Trying not to look up at Mando, due to sheer embarrassment, you fail at your task when he turns to watch Pershing with the child still on his lap. He tries to be causal of his hand on his thigh, a little too close to his blaster as the doctor gets closer to you, while Grogu plays with his fingers. Father and protector, you smile to yourself. Realizing your line of gaze, he moves his other hand to hold to his child and abruptly turns his chair towards the stars as you feel a cold pinch in your arm. 
The next hour or so is spent in silence, preparing to land on who-knows-what-planet. As long as you can get off this chilly ship and descend out of the numbness of space, it doesn’t matter where. You might be being a little over-dramatic, but wearing a now torn, thin, short sleeved shirt, some sort of pants with blaster powder now littering it, and no shoes, you think you deserve the right to be just a tad dramatic. The IV bag is finally finished, so there’s one less ice-cold thing touching your skin. Still you shiver in your seat, not wanting to impose too much and ask for a blanket or a change of clothes. Hopefully wherever you get off is warm, or at least warmer. 
Finally descending, you see tall, colorful structures, bright blue skies, and so much green. It’s beautiful. You can’t take your gaze off the gorgeous landscape getting larger before your eyes. Pulling your legs away from your chest, you brave the cold floor yet again to try and get a closer look. Audibly making a noise as you shiver, both men turn towards you, finally taking in your tattered appearance. With a static-y sigh, your starting to think that’s how he starts everything he says, the Mandalorian notes, “We should probably get you some better clothes.” His helmet points down to your feet, then tilts as he says, “And shoes.” 
Bare feet hit the luscious green grass, toes curling and uncurling into it as you deeply inhale the fresh air. The sun hitting your skin makes you feel alive again, warming you from outside to inside. It’s as if you can feel the golden rays pouring out of you. You have never seen nature as brilliant and as vibrant as it is here, you never want to leave its warmth. Too caught up in your own little world, you don’t notice the two men start walking towards the city. Grogu babbling in Mando’s bag snaps you out of it and you slightly jog to try and catch up to them. 
It takes a while to walk into the city, considering where Mando landed his ship. By the time you actually get there, your feet feel like one of the thousand rocks you’ve stepped on during this journey. The armored man barely seems to notice at first of you trailing behind, only stopping when the city is finally in view. So now to top of being cold and unequipped for this amount of walking, you are now tired. Grrrwwww. And hungry. Hopefully no one heard the atrocious noise your stomach just made. When was the last time you ate? 
Mando must of heard it growl because before you can react, he tosses you a few credits and tells you to go get something to eat while he takes Pershing somewhere to set up his new life. You didn’t catch the last part because you’re already following your nose to the nearest source of food. While walking away you hear more static come out of his helmet, like he was sighing again, but it wasn’t the same as last time. It almost sounded like a laugh. Was... was he laughing at you? You whip your head around, but they’ve already disappeared. Shaking your head, you turn back and let your stomach take the lead again. 
Mando and Grogu finally come back when you are all about done with this meat on a stick. They find you sitting in front of this little shop, eyes closed in bliss about finally eating. There’s barely anyone around, so it was not very hard to spot you. Finally looking up, ripping one of the last pieces off the kebob, you beam up at him. You don’t know it but seeing you happy after the events of this morning, brings a smile to the bounty hunter’s face. Offering his hand to help you stand, he asks, “Better?” You nod your head in response while he helps pull you up. Shoving he little piece of meat into your mouth, you hear his voice yet again, “What even is that?” 
“I don’t know,” you counter. “All I know if that it smelled really good. Honestly if I knew what it was, I probably wouldn’t be able to eat it,” you finish with a giggle. He just nods, still without you seeing the smile planted on his face. You two walk side by side going into the city, with Grogu in a bag on his father’s hip of course. 
You can hear the main part of the city before you actually see it. People are bustling, vendors litter the streets, it’s astonishing. And overwhelming, very overwhelming. Your breath hitches as you recall that a vendor was the way they found you before. But no, no you’re safe with the Mandalorian, he said they wouldn’t get to you. No, that he wouldn’t let them get to you. Without noticing, you start walking closer to Mando, more into his personal space than he usually likes. You’re close enough to graze his hand while walking, and right now you desperately want to reach out and grab it. Okay, it’s okay, just focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out. 
Too busy trying to calm yourself, you don’t notice Mando look over at you after he felt you invade his space. He whispers to you, “Are you okay?” but the volume is too much to get his question to your ears. Instead he lightly puts his hand at the small of your back, causing you to slightly jump. Looking around, your line of vision finally falls on the bounty hunter’s arm, now removed from your back, moving back towards his side. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as your realize that he noticed you. Pull it together. You manage to walk only a few more feet until someone bumps into you and instinct takes over as you grab onto something to steady yourself. The thing that happens to be is Mando’s arm. 
Luckily, he extends it behind your back to steady you, but not before sending the poor soul that accidentally bumped you what can only assumed is a death glare. That poor man turns as pale as a ghost. You almost forgot how menacing he could be. You’ve only been on the receiving end of Mando’s protection and don’t want to know what the opposite would be like. You two continue to walk with his arm guiding you, until you see it. Shoes. You nearly forgot about the pain in your feet until you saw them. Hand no longer on your back, you hurry forward, leaving the now frenzied and confused Mandalorian behind. 
Reaching the stand, you turn to find Mando with his hand on his blaster and his bucket of a helmet frantically looking around the area for a sign of danger. The T of his visor finally looks back at you and you just mouth to him, shoes! and then point at your bare feet. He tilts his head to the side and you just know that he sighed. Shaking your head, you let out a huff of air that resembles a laugh at his signature way of expressing himself. 
Before you know it, you have new shoes, already on your feet, a few shirts and two pairs of pants. Mando insisted you have layers because who knows where they might end up. This begs the question, what kind of trouble has he gotten into before, better yet what trouble are you getting yourself into? Babbles from a hidden baby remind you that maybe the trouble is worth it. 
The shiny man and you continue walking around the marketplace of the city. He said he wanted to see if they had any spare parts that he could use for the Razor Crest and you were just happy to be wearing boots and having the extra time to break them in. “You can go look around if you want, I’m going to be over here,” Mando states as he inspects some round, gear-looking thing. Figuring you’d get bored of the mechanical items, you go to wander. “Hey,” the modulated voice cuts through again, “stay close.” Nodding, you only go two booths down to look at the books laid out. 
Eyes scan to find anything remotely related to this thing, this power, you and Grogu possess. In the back of your mind also knowing you’re searching for something to tell you more about Mandalorian culture, as you have become intrigued by your new companion. While looking, something shiny, much like Mando, catches your eye. Turning to the next booth, the item seems to be a hair pin. You freeze. 
A flower hair pin. Pearl in the center, with gray and white iridescent petals. No, no, no, no this can’t be happening. It feels like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Your legs feel like lead, but you need to get out of there, you have to. The table has more unfinished glass pieces there too, just like before. They can find you. They can get you. They can get the baby. No that can’t happen, you force your tense legs to move as your hands shake. Backing up away from the stand, you bump into the book stand, letting a stack of books fall into the dirt. “Sorry, sorry,” you say with an unsteady voice. You need to find Mando, you need to find the baby, you need to -
Hands grab the back of your shoulders, as you think it’s over. You try to shake them off when you’re turned around to a familiar T visor. You stop fighting against him and grab his forearms. Your breathing still hasn’t slowed as he asks with a sternness you haven’t heard from him, “What happened?”
You can’t think of how to explain with your mind and heart racing and can only answer with, “We need to get out of here.” He pesters why to better understand the situation but all you can answer with is, “please,” as tears threaten to spill. “We need to get out of here please Mando.” He looks around confused, trying to find any source of danger, but turns his attention back to you when your grip tightens and you try to pull the three of you out of there. 
He lets you lead him to the edge of the city, back towards the green scenery you landed in. Finally stopping you with his hands on your shoulders again, he calls your name, “You need to tell me what is going on.” Taking a few breaths trying to compose yourself, you explain how the day before you were taken, you were at a shop similar to the one you were at. How you saw this hair pin then cut your hand while the person working tried to help you clean up. Explaining how you thought nothing of it, until you realized they wanted your blood for experiments. You barely make it through telling him that you saw the same set up with the hair pin at that booth. 
“That’s how they must have found me. We need to get out of here before they recognize us, please,” you plead. His helmet hangs down low as he slides one hand down to take your hand and begins walking back towards the ship. 
Arriving back at the ship, Mando hands you the bag filled with new clothes, “Go change, I’ll take care of this.” Just thinking he meant to fly the three of you off the planet, you go into the ‘fresher and get ready to take off far away from here. Finally dressed and hearing the latch close, you climb up to the cockpit. Grogu gurgles and makes grabby hands for you to pick him up from the co-pilot seat. While doing so, you realize the pilot seat is empty. 
“Where’s your dad, huh little one?” you coo at him. You called out to Mando to get no response. Attempting to climb down the ladder with the child wasn’t easy, especially still worried from before. You call out to Mando again, this time more frantic as he’s nowhere to be found. Your hear rate increase as you search the ship. Pressing the button you think would open the latch of the ship does nothing. What? did he lock you in here? You open some cabinets to be met with his armory. Picking up a blaster, you start rambling to the kid, “Your dad won’t mind right? Yeah, he’d want you protected. I won’t need to use it, but just in case. Yeah, just in case. Why don’t we also hang out in the cockpit away from the doors? Sound good?” You’re only met with muffled babbles back as Grogu sticks his stubby hand in his mouth. “Yeah, we’re going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen.” You hope.
Back in the city, Din is looking for a stand that has this... hair pin? Does he even know what one of those looks like? He’ll figure it out, you knocked some books over, so he decides he’ll start there. Unfortunately for Din, most of the vendors are closing down their booths. Dank farrik. He’s got to move quickly before they’re all closed. 
Speed walking, he comes across the same man working the booth Din was at before you panicked. He asks the man if he knows if there is a booth that sells this item, and thankfully he points Din in the right direction. Four booths down. The people who wanted his child, and now you, could’ve been four booths down from him and he had no idea. Now’s not the time to beat himself up over this, he needs answers. Stalking up to the table, he’s met with a young man cleaning up the stand. Without looking up the man says, “What can I help you with?” Din’s hand ghosts over the pin you described to him and sees the many broken pieces scattered on the table. 
“Seems a little... unsafe having all of these around,” Din observes while now moving around the table. The man finally looking up, goes white in the face and begins to run. Why do they always think they can outrun me? Chasing the man down an alley, Din uses his grappling hook around his feet and the man goes tumbling to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar to face him. Anger laced through his modulated voice, “Did you follow us?”
“Nope, just the lucky bastard that happened to be on the same planet as you,” He spits out. Din notices that he moves his jaw to the side, but the man continues, “Don’t worry they’ll find you and the child soon. Oh, and I’m sure the troopers will have a good time with that pretty little girl you have once  they get their hands on her.” Before Din can land a hand on this guy, he bites down on something and there’s electricity everywhere, just like he saw with Bo Katan. Din barely jumps off the man in time. Now full of adrenaline and anger he stands there for a few seconds thinking of his next move. Kriff. He needs to get back to you and his son. 
You are sitting on the cold floor of the cockpit, with Grogu on your lap, hand hovering the blaster that is next to you on the ground. Banging coming from the Crest makes you jump. It sounds like the hatch opens, so you clutch Grogu closer and pick up the blaster as you stand up. The pram is still in the cockpit, so you put the baby that is pulling your hair in and close it. Going to the opening between the levels, with shaky hands, you raise the blaster and wait. Clanging can be heard when you finally hear Mando call your name and the kid’s.
Hopping down the ladder, blaster still in hand, you smile at him as he stands still. “What the hell are you doing with that,” he barks at you. You stand there dumbfounded, he’s the one that left you in the ship with his child. He should be glad your first thought was to protect him. He continues with his hands on his hips, “Do you even know how to use that?”
Still startled, you stammer, “You just- point and shoot?” With that his hands go up in astonishment and back down again, almost as if he’s saying, are you kriffing kidding me? Why is he so angry right now? 
“You’re - you’re the one that left me, that left us here,” you point back up to the cockpit, “I didn’t know if someone else could get in or not. Why are you so angry at me for trying to protect your son?” 
“You could have shot him or yourself, you don’t even know how to use it,” his voice raises and he takes it out of your hand. 
“I’m not the one that left us here defenseless!” you scream. Both of you stand there for second huffing at each other. Finally thinking a little bit more rationally, you ask, “Where did you even go?” 
Pushing past you, he put something in your hand, “I took care of it.” He climbs the ladder as you look. The hair pin. He took care of it? He took care of it. Your face falls thinking of what that means. Following him back up, you take Grogu from the pram and place him on your hip. 
“You took care of it?” you say astonished, “Care to elaborate?” Mando sits in the pilot chair already plotting a new location. 
“No.” Your eyes go wide as he spins the chair to face you. “I’m flying us out of here and I-,” his hands go up in defeat, “I need to eat. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come up.” He sounds less angry but still very annoyed. At this point you’re fuming. You spin on your heels with Grogu playfully slapping his little 3-fingered hand across your face for attention. 
You leave the cockpit and grab two food packets on the crate before the ladder opening. Stuffing them in your pocket, you try to maneuver yet again down the ladder with a baby clinging to you. Hopping off the last wrung, you go to sit on the crates you woke up on. Opening the packets, you help feed Grogu his. 
Why was he so mad? If anything, he should be thankful that you were being resourceful. And after the past couple of days you think you deserve the right to be a little worked up about things like this. The anger is fueling you right now. It keeps spiraling, you can feel the darkness surround you. This used to happen when you were younger. Your emotions would almost devour you whole. Luckily your mother would always tell you, it’s okay to have these emotions but don’t let them consume you. She would lead you through some breathing exercises to help you calm down. Oh, you wish she were here with you right now to help. Could she have known about this ability you have? That’s not important right now, you need to breath and calm down. While doing so, you feel two little hands come and rest on your chest, as to help you relax more. Playing with his ears, the weight of the day starts to set in. You feel your eyes start to droop and before you know it, you’re asleep yet again. 
Din holds his head in his hands. He shouldn’t have snapped. He knows this. It’s just knowing that Moff Gideon and his Imps could be anywhere in the galaxy trying to find others like the two Jedi he seemed to have collected. Are you even a Jedi? He still has no idea how this even works. Din shakes his head trying to clear it of what that man said. The anger boils up in him thinking of what he said about you, about their hands on you. He wishes he could’ve gotten a few punches in on him. He got out easy. 
He’d do anything to protect Grogu, he knows it and they know it. But now with you in the equation? He’s terrified. He doesn’t know what he got himself into with now both of you under his protection. You don’t know this but he saw you peeking through the opening, with your hands shaking holding the blaster and with such fear in your eyes. A pain springs up in his chest just thinking of it. Looking up towards the door, he thinks it might be time for him to stop hiding and time to go apologize for his behavior. He did just leave without explaining. You also have just been kidnapped and rescued in a matter of days. He sighs, remembering what you have gone through, and now with the reminder in the city. He should have been a little calmer and not taken out his frustrations out on you. 
Putting his helmet back on, he opens the cockpit doors and climbs down the ladder again, only to hear soft snores. There you are with your back against the wall, with Grogu in your lap. Grogu’s eyes open and he starts to make, very slow, sleep filled, grabby hands at his dad. Carefully taking the baby out of your arms, he opens up his own bunk and places the child in his little hammock. Quiet babbling is directed at him and Din responds, “I know, I know, I’m getting her a pillow and blanket.” 
Moving back over towards you with those items in hand, he places the pillow in its spot and carefully shifts you into a lying position, bringing your legs up onto the crates. After placing the blanket over you, Din moves the fallen pieces of hair out of your face. You look so peacefully, he can’t help but stare. Finally, he sighs, “I guess I better teach you how to shoot then.” 
Taglist: @rogueheretic555​ @heythere-mel​ @dancingwiththeplanets​ @ohpedromypedro​ 
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faeroviolet · 3 years
Text
Mystery chocopie(fanfic)
Content:
⚫ English version
⚫ Русская версия(внизу)
Сredits: Studio au by @zu-is-here​ other in the end, since It’s the spoiler...
Attention: there can be many letters, words and sentences here. Contains Out of Character(OOC), a lot of humor, hellcrazy, anarchy of imagination, strange action anomaly and other weird thing... Sorry, not sorry...
There can be mistakes because ... no one has ever said whether I write English badly or not. They never said at all whether my stories were interesting or they like them, they never said anything at all. Nothing ,_,
   Today is such a wonderful day: a clear blue sky with a bright sun shining above. It's about 1pm now. And the work at the studio is in full swing. Despite the bustle that soars throughout the pavilion, there is a sense of calm and peace. This's a kind of harmony that nothing can break, except...
Sudden crash and noise. The shout coming from the room was so loud that it could be heard outside. Even a small bird, peacefully sleeping on a branch, had to wake up abruptly and also hastily leave its seat, sleepily flapping its wings. What's going on? Someone is being killed... or given to domestic violence?! If someone passed by, then from what he heard, the soul would go into his heels and would not dare to climb out of there before its owner gets to the house, you never know what you can imaginate.
As they say: there's no smoke without fire. So who started the fire? It's easy to find out by watching what is happening through the window of the third floor.
A skeleton with purple lights in his eye sockets spoke in raised tones with the same skeleton as him, only the pupils were golden in color. Apparently the first one scolded the second one for something:
“Dream, where are choco-pies?!” Without stopping to ask the same question, Nightmare fiercely poked his finger into a silver tray, on which crumbs from the sweets that were recently lying there were still visible.
“N-nightmare, I didn't touch anything.“ Still defending himself with the same response, Dream held out his palms in front of himself.
“Don’t lie!!! When I came here you were rummaging around in the lockers, and there was already an empty tray on the table. How do you explain this to me?“
“Firstly, I came and everything was like this.” The light-eyed skeleton tried to calm the unexpected ardor of his brother. “Secondly, what are you talking about? And... why did it make you so angry?”
“Ugh, I brought some tasty treats to everyone... Or did you not see when we were going?” Nightmare breathed deeply. “I put them on a tray, but especially for myself I put one on another plate and put it where no one would take it for sure.” He pointed to the kitchen table behind where the mentioned utensil item was. “There were 99 choco-pies and one mine: generally - 100! And all of them are gone! What can you say to that, brother?”
“Oh, Nighty, I don't know. I didn't even look that way.”
“But where could they just go? So many...”
For a moment, Nightmare stopped and thought, his anger subsided. He walked over to the wall and sat down in a small armchair, putting his finger to his chin and looking up at the ceiling. Dream decided to join the pondering of this situation and sat down in a armchair nearby. But, unfortunately, not a single thought entered their skulls. Of course, how could this happen? It is simply impossible for such a large amount to disappear at once! Nightmare, desperate to find a clue to this mystery, sighed and slightly wilted: he did the wrong thing, yelling at Dream. After all, his brother isn’t guilty of anything, and he, hastening to conclusions, cursed him like that. He ought to apologize, so turned to him, about to say this, but his gaze caught on something else, and he stopped before even started.
Just in the corridor passed another skeleton, his eye sockets were hollow and faint black streaks were visible on the cheekbones below them. He greedily licked the bones of his fingers and was about to go to his room, when Nightmare ran into him. He looked at him dumbfounded, and Killer did not at all understand the meaning of the look of this weirdo.
“What's wrong... Nightmare?”
“It's you!” The skeleton with purple eyelights shouted right into his nonexistent ears.
Immediately after Nightmare, Dream ran up. He anxiously began to drag his brother, who was firmly caught on the other’s shoulders, muttering something about stepping on the same rake. The older twin calmed down a bit, and both skeletons, along with Killer, returned to their armchairs. The brothers settled down on the seats, and the last one continued to stand beside him, still not delving into what was happening. What was the problem?
“What actually happened?” Killer nevertheless asked the question that tormented him, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side.
“It's just that Nightmare was furious that someone ate 100 choco-pies, among which was his, specially postponed!“ The younger twin said unceremoniously. At this explanation of the situation, Nightmare slightly frowned: the manner in which it was pronounced, he didn’t like.
“Because you obviously have something to eat... Look! How tou smiled and slobbering your fingers!”
Killer reacted calmly to such a stinging statement.
“Oh, this...” With a sly grin, he licked his still sweet finger once more. “Ccino and I were playing.”
“What?! Without me?” Nightmare almost fell from his chair and, jumping up from his seat, wanted to be indignant, but stopped and, slightly blushing, glanced nervously at Dream. He cleared his throat and continued: “Umm, I mean... Stop wandering around idle!”
“Oh! Do you know what?” The empty-eyed exclaimed immediately, as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Night's embarrassment at all. Brothers looked at him as if they were listening intently, waiting for him to continue. “We need to check something! Let's go.”
Killer led them long and tediously along many corridors. And where to? They stopped at a dressing room, and their favorite guide, who took the fellow travelers into the wilderness*, knocked on the door. Not hearing a response from there, he happily opened it. Having walked a little inside and, at the same time looking around just in case, Killer gestured to the dummies to come in.
Once in the room, the brothers didn’t know what to expect further from the miracle without a skirt*, so they just watched his actions. And he quickly and surely rushed forward to some picture, which depicted peaches and daisies, and held out his hands to it. Oh, what a shock and surprise was on the faces of Dream and Nightmare when they saw what was behind the beautiful 'masterpiece'. And it even seemed to them that at that moment on Killer’s forehead could read: “I can look at you for eternity, and I'll never get tired of it!”.
“Shh! It's a secret.” He put his finger to his mouth conspiratorially.
“What's this?! Safe?” Immediately Nightmare shouted, but then lowered his tone, as if catching this vibe of secrets and conspiracies. "What's there?”
“I'll open it now and you will find out!” The main 'conspirator' said happily.
“Do you have a code?” Dream was surprised.
“Yep, what did you think? I put it on.“ He grunted in response, dialing the numbers on the display.
When the device sounded, notifying about the correctness of the entered sequence, Killer opened the door and turned to those present with a solemn “Ta-da!”. Not hearing a standing ovation or at least some ooh-ooh, he stalled and turned to the safe, entering into a stupor finally. Empty... There was...
“Empty!” He screamed with a tragic tone and hung on the iron monster. He would have cried, but he was stopped here with questions.
“And what was supposed to be here, smart guy?” Night asked, apparently pleased with his suffering.
“There..." ‘The Drama Queen’ sniffed and rubbed his eye socket. "There must have been my chocolates hidden away for a rainy day.”
“Hidden away, you say?” Nightmare frowned, walked closer to Killer and pulled on himself, looking terribly right into the void of his eye sockets.
“Well, well, Nighty, let the poor man go.” Lisping, his brother gently sang, touching other's shoulder. "He's a victim. The same as we do. Lost..." Dream also made an overly dramatic look. " ...His precious!”
Nightmare groaned painfully and exhaustedly and let go of the poor 'puppy'. They went back to the place where the first incident took place. On the way, Dream and Killer were laughing so hard that it seemed that they could be heard even 100 kilometers away! Simply unbearable... for Nightmare! When they got to the right place, the three detectives sat down at the table, thinking about the "Case of missing the sweet treasure". The name Killer gave. And this picture, which was drawn by an unknown creator, is called "Three knights at the table with crumbs of dead cakes". Another Killer’s joke.
They sat and sat while the wall clock ticked. But nothing came into their heads: not a single sensible thought, not a single guess. It was so upsetting. After all, the situation itself was unusual: it was very puzzling and did not allow believing in its existence. So what's the point? Do keep thinking about it? Dream has been thinking only about these questions lately. To be honest, he wasn’t so interested in it, besides, there are still so many things to do. But something held him back: the reason his brother was so obsessed with it. He wanted to figure it out. Why was Nightmare so angry? Why did he keep on raging? Why is this important to him? It's all so complicated... Dream sighed and lay down on his elbows on the table. He was drawn to sleep, but before he could even close his eyes, someone touched his shoulders.
“Dream, have you seen my chocolate juice?" The skeleton turned around and patted his eyes, met with a familiar and beloved face. Cross stood looking at him for a while, but then turned away and walked to the trash can by the wall. “Maybe it's here somewhere?”
“Cross, don't dig in the trash!" Dream blew up. "Then you need...”
“Found!" The skeleton exclaimed happily, pulling out a box from under some drink from a plastic container. He quickly got up from his knees and walked straight back to the crowd, beaming.
“Cross, you won't drink... from this?" The yellow-eyed skeleton crossed his arms in displeasure.
“Aah... There is already nothing." Cross exhaled in frustration, turning to the others. "By the way, what are you doing here?”
“For your information, garbage rat..." Killer began jokingly.
"What rat?" Indignantly, Cross banged his palm on the table in front of the insolent skeleton .
"So you agree with 'garbage’?" He didn’t calm down, to which he received an evil glance from Nightmare:
“Stop here... throw name-calling! Preventing thinking...”
“What are you thinking about?” Cross inquired again, sitting down on a chair.
“It's just that we have lost something here... that is, I'm listing: 100 choco-pies brought by Nightmare, and Killer's black stock of chocolate.” The younger twin explained to the dear one, tenderly singing every word.
“Hmm...” The two-color-eyed thought. “Do you know? Something similar happened to me.”
“In what sense?”
“Look...” He put an empty box on the table, Dream frowned at this a little, but then relaxed, deciding not to show his displeasure to the dirt. “I was busy with my own business, along the way drinking my juice. I turned away for a minute and... Wow! It has gone.”
Now a fourth has joined their team. But even with additional strength, nothing came of it, and time passed. Something, but this cannot be stopped, just like getting out of this web of problems. Outside the window could already be seen a motley orange-red sky — it’s evening. Imagine, they spent almost half a day on this! Unimaginable! And in the end came to nothing... These're the worst of all. Everyone, except Nightmare, got up and decided to go home already. Dream stopped, waiting for his brother, who continued to sit and incinerate the wooden surface with a piercing gaze of concentration.
“Find, let's go home, it's too late. Why do you need this? It has already happened and that's it...” He touched the shoulders of the elder, trying to reach his mind and induce him to quit.
“I have an idea!” Suddenly Nightmare jumped up and exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention. “Let's stay here and set a trap for the sweet tooth thief!”
Killer and Cross began to exchange glances, and then looked expectantly at Dream, who was standing behind Nightmare. Catching their glances, he sighed and with a gesture, as it were, showed that there was no choice. Brother got too carried away, that's all.
~~~
   The wind is blowing, you can hear it howling ... Someone didn’t close the window or the walls are so thin here? To tell the truth, at such a late hour the studio rooms look scary, and the strange rustle and blue moonlight creates the atmosphere of some kind of horror movie or vampire romance. And yet why did they start it? What if something bad happens? Cross didn’t understand all this, as well as why he got involved in this. But there's nothing to do, only breathing relaxes.
“But I warn you!” It seems that all the gloom of the environment didn’t attract Killer in any way, or he simply ignored the wariness of other participants in this idea. "This is the last chocolate bar that I have, so you, Nightmare, will owe me one more...”
“Yes, yes, yes...” But other's arrogance did not hurt at all. Nightmare was already busy arranging inventory for a makeshift trap, and distraction wasn’t his priority.
“And a box of chocolates sweets for moral damage!” Killer crossed his arms over his chest as if he were some kind of offended lady of high society. To this, only a long exhalation was heard, and Nightmare, rising and crossing his arms, like the other skeleton, rolled his eyes, and then said:
“Anything you order, madam.”
At such an treatment, the aforementioned 'Queen' fell into a stupor and, swaying back and forth on his feet, turned away, hiding a shame-and-shy blush. Oh, how shameless he’s! And Nightmare also gave a fire: he still has no idea how ambiguous he sometimes speaks! But this’s nothing, Killer knows what he’ll do late... But now he need to satisfy the Nightmare's desire to catch the unknown. And Nightmare had just finished and came up to tell the plan:
“Killer will put the bait there, and we'll watch in turn, okay?”
After receiving agreement in the form of nods, Nightmare headed for the exit into the corridor. When Killer asked where he was going, the skeleton waved his hand, indicating that his curious nose was not the case. Snorting at that, Killer went back to the others and joined in, taking a seat behind the barricade of armchairs.
Time passed for a long, in the emptiness of the room the ticking of the clock was heard very clearly and distinctly, even annoying. Nothing happened at all. Nothing! Killer turned to his teammates and frowned. They have already managed to doze off, nestling at each other's sides. What a bum! He sighed... After all, it’s true: the whole thing was initially meaningless. They simply cannot find the one who has committed all the atrocities. And one more strange thing... Nightmare hasn't come yet. And where has our commander gone? Wasn't that so important to him? The skeleton rose from the floor and stretched, kneading the bones of his arms.
He’s so tired, and until Nightmare returns there is no way to leave: it will somehow come out rudly. Killer glanced at the trap and covered his mouth, ready to yawn.
“Even if no one shows up, he will owe me one mo-”
Without even having time to breathe, the skeleton shuddered and slightly choked. For a moment it seemed to him that he saw someone's figure. Having brought himself to more or less calmness, Killer hastened to wake up two sleeping ‘kittens’.
“Uugh! Killer, we agreed: you are watching first, and we are watching later!” Cross grumbled displeased, trying not to raise the tone too much so as not to frighten Dream.
“But this’s important!”
“Your jokes cannot be important...”
“Cross, that's enough...” A little rubbing his right eye socket and yawning, Dream hissed. “Maybe it's really important. What is it, Killer?”
“It seems to me that I saw someone.”
“If it seems, go to the ophthalmologist.*” Cross interjected, narrowing his eyes.
“But it's true! We are alone here and no one else can be, it is unnerving. And also...” The next words the skeleton muttered so that they couldn’t be made out. “Nightmare went somewhere and didn’t return.”
“So, calm down, both.“ Dream tried to cool the guys, and then, looking around, he continued: “Let's see if our ‘uninvited guest’ took the sweet bait.”
Cross didn't want to believe it, but Killer was right along the way that there was an outsider in the building: there was no chocolate on the table. So what should they do next? After all, apparently, they have already missed the ‘criminal’. But there was another snag...
“Uh... brother still doesn’t return.” The skeleton with yellow eyes, which under the light of the moon sparkled with a golden hue, said quietly and sadly.
“By the way, I also thought about it...” Killer spread his arms and shook his head.
“Since he started all this, we'll only find out further actions from him.” Cross said, leaning on the table. “Let's go look for him...”
Agreeing with this idea, they went out into the corridor. It was a long and terrible journey. It was much darker in here than in that room. It seems that not only the wind can be heard, but also a rustle and some kind of grinding. This began to strain not only Cross, who was uncomfortable here from the very beginning, but also Dream. He pressed against the other skeleton even tighter, and, even despite the circumstances, It’s caused some warm feelings inside two-color-eyed and a faint blush on his cheeks.
The sudden clink of broken glass made the skeletons flinch and draw attention to it. They hurried to find out what was going on there, and froze, turning the corner. There was a figure standing not far from the shards of a vase lying on the floor. It seemed familiar, but... Who could it be? Squinting, Killer was the first to guess:
“Nightmare!!!” Rays of bluish light emerged from the curtains covering the window, illuminating half of the above-named skeleton. “What are you doing?”
The empty-eyed skeleton came closer and touched the other's shoulder. Nightmare flinched, dropping something from his hands, and slowly turned his head, looking into the face of his friend with an view as if he had just recently woken up. This greatly surprised the other skeleton, so he tilted his head to the side, waiting for answers, but without waiting for anything, he paid attention to the object that was lying on the floor. Killer bent down and took it in his hands. Looking closely, he was able to determine that it was... no wonder, chocolate! Not just any, but that one! Killer was sure. But he couldn’t understand what that could mean.
Dream and Cross didn't understand either. They approached with Killer, but all this time they were just silent. Everyone was so confused that they didn't even know what to say. Even Nightmare himself was shocked.
"Highty..." After a while his brother said quietly, drawing attention to himself. "So you're a lunatic? I didn't notice before...”
“I ... I ...” He darted his gaze across the dark room and fiddled with the phalanges of his fingers. “I don't even know what to say, guys..."
“So maybe you did it all?" Killer said, rising from the floor and continuing to hold the sweet bar in his hand. The violet-eyed skeleton lowered its head apologetically at his words. But it seems that this wasn’t enough for the other skeleton, so he decided to list all the crimes committed: "You personally ate all the choco-pies that you yourself brought. You ate my supply of chocolate. You drank Cross' juice. And the worst thing: you blamed everyone for this, even your own brother!”
"I'm sorry! Really." The skeleton exclaimed, ashamed and humiliated to the very bottom “I wanted to apologize to Dream, but! Lost on you. Sorry, I really don't know what came over me!”
“Don’t mind, brother.” Dream intervened, hugging him soothingly. "I’m not angry. I guess... you're just overtired. And, perhaps, from this you sleepwalk. I told you not to overexert yourself.”
And now: the solution to this mystery has come. They can already go home, but it wasn’t end! There was one thing that did not tie into all the facts at all...
“And yet, Killer, you are in something wrong " Cross held out thoughtfully, putting his finger to his chin, staring at the toes of his shoes.
"Hmm, and in what?" He grunted, putting his hands on his hips.
“Nightmare may have eaten the choco-pies and drank my juice, but he couldn't break open the safe while he was unconscious. Something doesn't add up.”
"But who cou-”
Suddenly, some rustling distracted Killer, not allowing him to finish the question. There was a grinding and a strange rumbling sound. It attracted the others: turning, they stared into the darkness that covered the half of the room. Something flashed in the depths, and disturbing sounds intensified. The skeletons stepped back, huddled together and huddled against each other. The terrible lights resembled the eyes of some creature. What could it be? It approached, forcing them to retreat in fear closer to the bend. A little more and it will be possible to find out what was hidden in the black haze. The last clinking step and...
“Meow!”
Friends screamed and rushed away. Without turning around, they walked away from danger in disgrace. Was there any danger in that? It's just a cute little kitty. Maybe such a dark atmosphere allowed their fantasy to play out? No one can know for sure. And is this really the end?
“Hey, guys? What were you doing here?” The skeleton in a beige sweater, smiling sweetly under the moonlight, lifted a white cat.
This, of course, was an unexpected turn. But shouldn't we be asking this question, Ccino? After all, they never find out about it. Just as they do not know what scared them that night. This also applies to... So who ate Killer's chocolate? True, there were many questions in this story. And you might think you've knew the answers to all of them, but no. This is an erroneous assumption.
This is something to which there is no answer. Since all these riddles must remain unsolved. And only you yourself will understand what is true and what is false. You decide how you answer.
*  — In those places marked with this sign, there should have been Russian jokes... but you won't understand them(nobody can), so this may seem like very strange sentences.
Credits: Dream and Nightmare by jokublog Cross!Sans by jakei95 Killer!Sans by rahafwabas Ccino!Sans by black-nyanko
BOOOOM, explosion of my brain.
Hmm... That's all, and I forgot what I wanted to say at the end.
So... now I go.
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Так, так, тут есть предупреждения: большой текст, слабым на много буковок и мало картинок не смотреть, тут есть ООС(потому что по-другому я не могу), адское безумие, анархия воображения, вам может показаться, что происходящее здесь это полный бред, хотя да, так и есть, тут должно быть смешно.
“Таинственный чокопай”(фанфик)
   Сегодня такой чудесный день: ясное голубое небо с сияющем вышине ярким солнцем. Сейчас где-то час дня. А работа на студии кипит. Несмотря на суету, витающую по всему павильону, ощущается какое-то спокойствие и умиротворение. Это эдакая гармония, которую ничто не может нарушить, разве что...
Внезапный грохот и шум. Крики, доносящиеся из комнаты, были настолько громкими, что их было слышно на улице. Даже маленькой птичке, мирно спящей на ветке, пришлось резко проснуться и также поспешно покинуть насиженное место, спросонья еле хлопая крыльями. Что же происходит? Кого-то убивают... или придают домашнему насилию?! Если бы кто-то проходил мимо, то от услышанного у него бы душа в пятки ушла и не посмела бы оттуда вылазить до того, как её хозяин доберется до дома, мало ли, что можно понапридумывать.
Как говорится: нет дыма без огня. Так кто же устроил пожар? Это легко выяснить, пронаблюдав происходящие через окно третьего этажа.
Скелет с фиолетовыми огнями в глазницах говорил на повышенных тонах с таким же скелетом, как и он, только того зрачки были золотистого цвета. Видимо первый за что-то ругал второго:
— Дрим, где чокопаи?! — не унимаясь задавать один и тот же вопрос, Найтмер яростно тыкал пальцем в серебряный поднос, на котором ещё виднелись крошки от недавно лежащих там вкусняшек.
— Н-найтмер, я ничего не трогал — все продолжая защищаться одним и тем же ответом, Дрим выставил ладони перед собой.
— Не ври!!! Когда я пришел ты здесь шарился в шкафчиках, а на столе уже стоял пустой поднос. Как ты мне это объяснишь?
— Во-первых, я пришел, и все было таким — светлоглазый скелет пытался унять неожиданный пыл своего брата. — Во-вторых, о чем ты говоришь? И... почему тебя это так разозлило?
— Агх, я принес всем вкусняшки... Или ты не видел, когда мы собирались? — глубоко выдохнул Найтмер. — Поставил все на поднос, но специально для себя отложил один на другую тарелку и поставил там, где точно не возьмут. — он указал на кухонный стол позади, где находился выше указанный элемент посуды. — Было 99 чокопаев и один мой: в итоге — 100! И всех их нет! Что ты можешь на это сказать, брат?
— Ох, Найти, не знаю. Я даже не смотрел в ту сторону.
— Но куда же они могли просто так деться? Столько...
На мгновение Найтмер остановился и задумалась, его злость стихла. Он отошел к стене и сел в небольшое кресло, приложив палец к подбородку и подняв взор к потолку. Дрим решил присоединится к обдумыванию этой ситуации и присел в кресло, находящееся рядом. Но, к сожалению, ни единая мысль не приходила в их черепушки. Конечно же, как такое могло произойти? Просто невозможно, чтобы такое большое количество в раз и исчезло! Найтмер от отчаяния найти разгадку на эту тайну вздохнул и слегка поник: неправильно он поступил, накричав на Дрима. Ведь его брат в ничем не виноват, а он, поспешив с выводами, обругал его так. Нужно бы извинится. Он повернулся к нему, собираясь сказать это, но зацепился взглядом за кое-что другое и остановился, даже не начав.
Как раз в коридоре проходил другой скелет, его глазницы были полыми и еле заметные черные потеки виднелись на скулах под ними. Он жадно облизывал кости пальцев и собирался идти в свою комнату, как на него налетел Найтмер. Тот ошалело смотрел на него, и Киллер совсем не понимал значения взгляда этого чудика.
— Что такое... Найтмер?
— Это ты! — закричал ему прямо в несуществующие уши скелет с фиолетовыми глазами.
Сразу же после Найтмера подбежал и Дрим. Он обеспокоенно начал оттаскивать крепко зацепившегося за чужие плечи брата, бурча что-то про наступление на одни и те же грабли. Старший близнец все же немного успокоился, и оба скелета вместе с Киллером вернулись к креслам. Братья разместились на сидениях, а последний продолжил стоять рядом, все ещё не вникая в происходящее. В чем же была проблема?
— А что в общем-то случилось? — все-таки задал терзающий его вопрос Киллер, скрестив руки на груди и наклонив голову на бок.
— Да просто Найтмер взбесился от того, что кто-то съел 100 чокопаев, среди которых был и его, специально отложенный! — не церемонясь, заявил младший близнец. На такое объяснение ситуации Найтмер слегка нахмурился: манера, с которой оно было произнесено, ему не понравилась.
— Да потому что ты явно чем-то полакомился... Вон! Как улыбался и пальцы свои слюнявил!
Киллер спокойно отреагировал на такое язвительное высказывание.
— Ах, это... — он с хитрой ухмылкой ещё раз лизнул все ещё сладкий палец. — Мы с Чино игрались.
— Что?! Без меня? — Найтмер чуть не грохнулся с кресла и, подскочив с места, хотел было возмутится, но осекся и, слегка покраснев, нервно глянул на Дрима. Прокашлявшись, продолжил: — То есть... Прекрати без делу шататься!
— Ох! А знаете что? — тут же как в ничем не бывало воскликнул пустоглазый, совсем не обратив внимание на смущение Найта. Братья посмотрели на него, как будто внимательно слушают, ожидая, когда тот продолжит. — Нам нужно кое-что проверить! Идемте.
Вел их Киллер долго и нудно по множеству коридоров. И куда же? Они остановились у одной гримерки, и их любимый проводник, который завел попутчиков в дебри не пойми куда, постучался в дверь. Не услышав оттуда отклика, он радостно открыл её. Пройдя чуть вовнутрь и, попутно оглядываясь на всякий случай, Киллер жестом пригласил болванчиков на ножка войти.
Оказавшись в комнате, братья не знали, чего ожидать дальше от чуда без юбки, поэтому просто наблюдали за его действиями. А тот быстро и верно ринулся вперед к какой-то картине, на которой были изображены персики и маргаритки, и протянул к ней руки. Ох, какой же шок и удивление было на лицах Дрима и Найтмера, когда они увидели, что находилось за прекрасным “шедевром”. И им даже показалось, что у Киллера в тот момент на лбу можно было прочесть: “Я могу вечность смотреть на вас, и это мне никогда не надоест!”.
— Тсс! Это секрет — заговорщицки прислонил палец ко рту тот.
— Это что?! Сейф? — сразу же крикнул Найтмер, но потом снизил тон, как бы поймав этот вайб секретов и заговоров. — Что там?
— Сейчас открою, и узнаете! — радостно вымолвил главный “заговорщик”.
— У тебя есть код? — удивился Дрим.
— Ага, а как же ты думал? Я ведь его поставил — хмыкнул тот в ответ, набирая цифры на дисплее.
Когда прибор пиликнул, уведомляя о верности введенной последовательности, Киллер отворил дверцу и повернулся к присутствующим с торжественным “Та-да!”. Не услышав оваций или хотя бы каких-то охов-ахов, он застопорился и повернулся к сейфу, войдя в ступор вот окончательно. Пусто... Там было...
— Пусто! — он закричал с трагическим тоном и повис на железном чудовище. Ещё бы чуть-чуть и заплакал, но его тут остановили с расспросами.
— И что же здесь должно было быть, умник? — спросил Найт, видимо, довольный его страданиями.
— Там... — "Королева драмы” шмыгнул носом и потер глазницу. — Должны были быть мои припрятанные на черный день шоколадки.
— Припрятанные, говоришь? — Найтмер нахмурился, подошел ближе к Киллеру и потянул на себя, страшно заглядывая прямо в пустоту глазниц того.
— Ну-ну, Найти, отпусти беднягу — сюсюкаясь, ласково пропел его брат, коснувшись чужого плеча. — Он ведь пострадавший. Так же, как и мы. Потерял... — Дрим тоже сделал чересчур драматический вид. — ...Свою прелесть!
Найтмер страдательно и измученно простонал и отпустил бедного “щеночка”. Они пошли обратно: к месту, где произошло первое происшествие. По пути Дрим и Киллер так ржали, что казалось — их можно было услышать и за 100 километров! Просто невыносимо... для Найтмера! Добравшись до нужного места, трое детективов уселись за столом, задумавшись о “Деле пропажи сладкого сокровища”. Название, которое дал Киллер. А эта картина, которая нарисована неизвестным творцом, называется “Трое рыцарей за столом с крошками убитых пироженок”. Ещё одна Киллеровская шутка. 
Сидели они и сидели, пока настенные часы тикали. Но так ничего в их головы не приходило: ни одна дельная мысль, ни одно предположение. Это так огорчало. Ведь сама ситуация была необычна: сильно озадачивала и не позволяла верить в её существование. Так какой в этом толк? Продолжать размышлять над этим? Дрим вот все последнее время думал лишь над этими вопросами. Ему, если честно, это было неинтересно, так, к тому же, ещё так много дел. Но кое-что все-таки держало его: причина такой одержимости брата за это. Он хотел в этом разобраться. Почему Найтмер так вспылил? Почему продолжал бесится? Почему это важно для него? Это все так сложно... Дрим вздохнул и прилег на локти, расположившись на столе. В сон потянуло, но не успел он прикрыть даже глаза, как кто-то коснулся плеч.
— Дрим, ты не видел мой шоколадный сок? — скелет обернулся и похлопав глазками, встретился с знакомым и любимым лицом. Кросс некоторое время стоял и смотрел на него, но потом отвернулся и пошел к мусорке у стены. — Может быть он где-то здесь?
— Кросс, не ройся в мусоре! — подорвался с места Дрим. — Руки потом...
— Нашел! — воскликнул радостно скелет, вытаскивая из пластикового контейнера коробочку из-под какого-то напитка. Он шустро встал с колен и прямо сияя подошел обратно к сборищу.
— Кросс, ты же не будешь пить... из этого? — недовольно скрестил руки на груди желтоглазый скелет.
— Аах... Там уже ничего нет — расстроенно выдохнул Кросс, обернувшись к остальным. — А, кстати, что вы тут делаете?
— К твоему сведению, помойная крыса... — шутливо начал Киллер.
— Какая крыса? — возмущенно стукнул ладонью о стол перед наглым скелетом Кросс.
— Так значит с “помойная” ты согласен? — не унимался тот, на что получил злой взгляд со стороны Найтмера:
— Кончайте тут... обзывательствами бросаться! Мешаете думать...
— А о чем вы думаете? — поинтересовался снова Кросс, садясь на стул.
— Просто тут у нас кое-что пропало... а то есть, перечисляю: 100 чокопаев, которые принес Найтмер, и черный запас шоколада Киллера — объяснил милому младший близнец, ласково пропев каждое слово. 
— Хм... — задумался разноглазый. — А знаете? У меня произошло кое-что похожее.
— В каком смысле?
— Смотрите... — он поставил на стол пустую коробочку, на это Дрим немножко нахмурился, но потом расслабился, решив не показывать свое недовольство на грязь. — Я был занят своими делами, попутно употребляя мой сок. На минуту отвернулся и... хоба! Он пропал.
Теперь к их команде присоединился четвертый. Но даже с дополнительной силой ничего не выходило, а время шло. Что-что, а это остановить нельзя, как и выбраться из этой паутины проблемы. За окном виднелось уже пестрое оранжево-красное небо — вечереет. Представите себе, они потратили почти пол дня на это! Невообразимо! Так ещё пришли к ничему... Это худшие из всего. Все, кроме Найтмера, встали и решили пойти уже по домам. Дрим остановился, ожидая брата, который продолжал сидеть и испепелять деревянную поверхность пронзительным взглядом сосредоточенности.
— Найти, пошли домой, уже поздно. Ну чего тебе это? Оно уже произошло и все... — он коснулся плеч старшего, пытаясь достучаться до него и побудить бросить это.
— Есть идея! — Неожиданно Найтмер подскочил и воскликнул, привлекая к себе внимание всех. — Останемся здесь и устроим ловушку на воришку-сладкоежку!
Киллер и Кросс начали переглядываться, а потом ожидающе посмотрели на Дрима, стоящего позади Найтмера. Поймав их взгляды, тот вздохнул и жестом как бы показал, что выбора нет. Братик слишком увлекся, вот и все.
~~~
   Ветер дует, слышно его завывание... Кто-то не закрыл окно или стены здесь такие тонкие? По правде говоря, в такое позднее время помещения в студии выглядят страшновато, а странный шорох и лунный синий свет создает атмосферу какого-то фильма ужасов или вампирской романтики. И все-таки зачем они это затеяли? А вдруг что-то плохо�� случится? Кросс не понимал всего этого, как и то, зачем он в это ввязался. Но делать нечего, лишь вдохи расслабляют.
— Но я предупреждаю! — кажется вся мрачность окружения никак не привлекала Киллера, или же он просто игнорировал настороженность других участников их задумки. — Это последняя шоколадка, что у меня есть, поэтому ты, Найтмер, должен будешь мне ещё одну...
— Да, да, да... — но чужая наглость совсем не задевала. Найтмер и так был занят, расставляя инвентарь для самодельной ловушки, а отвлекаться было не в его приоритетах.
— И коробку конфет за моральный ущерб! — скрестил руки на груди Киллер так, как будто он какая-то обиженная дама высшего общества. На это послышался лишь длинный выдох, а Найтмер, поднявшись и скрестив руки так же, как и другой скелет, закатил глаза, а потом вымолвил:
— Все, что прикажите, госпожа.
На такое обращение выше названная “Королева” встал в ступор и, покачавшись на ступнях взад вперед, отвернулся, скрывая стыдо-срамский румянец. Ох, какой же он бесстыжий! И Найтмер тоже дал жару: все ещё не догадывается насколько он иногда двусмысленно говорит! Но ничего, Киллер знает, что он сделает потом... А сейчас нужно утолить желание Кошмарчика по поимки неизвестного. Тот как раз уже закончил и подошел рассказывать план:
— Киллер положит туда приманку, а мы по очереди будем дежурить, поняли?
Получив согласие в виде кивков, Найтмер направился к выходу в коридор. На вопрос Киллера, куда тот идет, скелет махнул рукой, показывая, что не его любопытного носа дела. Фыркнув на это, Киллер вернулся к остальным и присоединился, присаживаясь за баррикадой из кресел.
Время шло долго, в пустоте комнаты тиканье часов раздавалось очень ярко и отчетливо, даже раздражало. Ничего совсем не происходило. Ничегошеньки! Киллер повернулся к своим напарникам и нахмурился. Те уже успели задремать, примостившись друг у друга под боками. Что за бездельники! Он вздохнул... Ведь верно: все это дело изначально было бессмысленным. Они просто не могут найти того, кто совершил все злодеяния. И ещё одна странная вещь... Найтмер так и не пришел. И куда же наш командир подевался? Разве это не было для него таким важным? Скелет поднялся с пола и потянулся, разминая кости рук.
Он так устал, а пока не вернется Найтмер уйти нет возможности: некрасиво как-то выйдет. Киллер глянул на ловушку и прикрыл рот, готовый зевнуть.
— Даже если никто не заявится, он будет должен мне ещё од...
Не успев даже вдохнуть, скелет вздрогнул и слегка поперхнулся. На мгновение ему показалось, что он видел чью-ту фигуру. Приведя себя в более-менее спокойствие, Киллер поспешил разбудить двух спящих “котят”.
— Аагх! Киллер, договорились же: ты дежуришь первым, а мы — потом! — недовольно ворчал Кросс, стараясь не слишком повышать тон, чтобы не напугать Дрима.
— Но это важно!
— Твои шутки не могут быть важными...
— Кросс, хватит... — чуть потирая правую глазницу и зевая, просипел Дрим. — Может это действительно важно. Что такое, Киллер?
— Мне кажется, что я кого-то ��идел.
— Если кажется, иди к окулисту — встрял Кросс, прищурившись.
— Но это правда! Мы здесь одни и никто больше не может быть, это нервирует. А ещё... — следующие слова скелет так пробубнил, что их невозможно было разобрать. — Найтмер куда-то ушел и так и не вернулся.
— Так, успокойтесь оба — попытался охладить ребят Дрим, а потом, расценочно осмотревшись, продолжил: — Давайте посмотрим, взял ли наш “незваный гость” сладкую наживку.
Кросс не хотел в это верить, но по ходу Киллер был прав, что в здании находится посторонний: шоколадки на столике не было. Ну и что же им делать дальше? Ведь, по всей видимости, они уже упустили “преступника”. Но была ещё одна загвоздка...
— Чего то братик все ещё не возвращается — тихо и печально проговорил скелет с желтыми глазами, которые под светом луны сверкнули золотистым оттенком.
— Я, кстати, тоже об этом думал... — развел руки и покачал головой Киллер.
— Так как он все это затеял, то будем выяснять дальнейшие действия лишь у него — изрек Кросс, облокотившись о стол. — Пойдемте его искать...
Согласившись с этой идеей, они вышли в коридор. Это был долгий и страшный путь. Здесь было намного темнее, чем в той комнате. Кажется слышен не только ветер, но и шорох и какой-то скрежет. Это начало напрягать не только Кросса, которому с самого начало было дискомфортно находится здесь, но и Дрима. Тот прижимался к другому скелету ещё крепче, и, даже не смотря на обстоятельства, у разноглазого это вызывало некие теплые ощущения внутри и слабый румянец на щеках.
Внезапный звон разбитого стекла заставил скелетов вздрогнуть и обратить на себя внимание. Они поспешили выяснить, что там происходит, и застыли, завернув за угол. Там была фигура, стоящая неподалеку от лежащих на полу осколков вазы. Она казалось знакомой, но... Кто же это может быть? Прищурившись, Киллер первым догадался:
— Найтмер!!! — из закрывающие окно шторы проклюнулись лучики голубоватого света, озаряющего половину вышеназванного скелета. — Что ты делаешь?
Пустоглазый скелет подошел ближе и коснулся чужого плеча. Найтмер вздрогнул, роняя что-то из рук, и медленно повернул голову, взглянув в лицо друга с таким видом, как будто только недавно проснулся. Это очень сильно удивило другого скелета, поэтому он наклонил голову в бок, ожидая ответов, но, так и не дождавшись ничего, обратил внимание на предмет, который лежал на полу. Киллер наклонился и взял это в руки. Присмотревшись, он смог определить, что это... как неудивительно, шоколадка! И не просто какая-нибудь, а та самая! Киллер был уверен. Но он никак не мог понять, что это может значить.
Дрим и Кросс тоже ничего не понимали. Они подошли вместе с Киллером, но все это время только молчали. Все находились в таком замешательстве, что даже не знали, что и сказать. Даже сам Найтмер был в шоке.
— Найти... — через некоторое время тихо вымолвил его брат, привлекая к себе внимание. — Так ты лунатик? Я раньше не замечал...
— Я... Я... — он метался взглядом по темному помещению и теребил фаланги пальцев. — Даже не знаю, что и сказать, ребята...
— Так может это ты все сделал? — подал голос Киллер, поднимаясь с пола и продолжая держать плитку сладости в руке. На его слова фиолетовоглазый скелет виновато опустил голову. Но, кажется, другому скелету этого было недостаточно, поэтому он решил перечислить все совершенные преступления: - Ты собственнолично съел все чокопаи, которые сам же и принес. Ты съел мой запас шоколада. Ты выпил сок Кросса. И самое страшное: ты обвинил в этом всех, даже собственного брата!
— Мне жаль! Действительно — воскликнул пристыженный и униженный до самого дна скелет. — Я хотел извинится перед Дримом, но! Сбился на тебя. Простите, я действительно не знаю, что на меня нашло!
— Ничего, братик — вмешался Дрим, успокаивающе обнимая того. — Я не злюсь. Наверное... ты просто переутомился. И, возможно, от этого ты и лунатишь. Я же говорил: не перенапрягайся.
И вот: разгадка этой тайны пришла. Можно уже идти домой, но не тут то было! Была одна вещь, которая совсем не связывалась со всеми фактами...
— А все же, Киллер, ты в кое-чем не прав — задумчиво протянул Кросс, приложив палец к подбородку, пялился на носки своей обуви.
— Хм, и в чем же? — хмыкнул тот, упершись руками в бока.
— Может Найтмер и съел чокопаи и выпил мой сок, но он никак не мог взломать сейф, будучи в бессознательном состоянии. Что-то не складывается.
— Но кто же мо...
Неожиданно какое-то шуршание отвлекло Киллера, не дав закончить вопрос. Послышался скрежет и странный урчащий звук. Это привлекло всех остальных: повернувшись, они уставились в темноту, покрывающую другую половину комнаты. Что-то сверкнуло в глубине, а настораживающие звуки усилились. Скелеты шагнули назад, скопившись в одну кучу и прижавшись к друг другу. Страшные огоньки напоминали глаза какого-то существа. Что же это может быть? Оно приближалось, заставляя их в страхе отступать ближе к повороту. Ещё чуть-чуть и можно будет узнать, что скрывалось в черной мгле. Последний клацающий шаг и...
— Мяу!
Компания завопила и помчалась прочь. Не оборачиваясь, они с позором ушли от опасности. А разве в этом была опасность? Это просто милый маленький котеночек. Может быть такая мрачная атмосфера позволила их фантазии разыграться? Никто не может знать наверняка. И неужели это и вправду конец?
— Эй, ребята? А что вы тут делали? — скелет в бежевом свитере, мило улыбаясь под лунным светом, поднимал белую кошку.
Это, конечно, был неожиданный поворот. Но разве это не мы должны задавать этот вопрос, Чино? Ведь они так и не узнают об этом. Так же, как и не узнают, что же их напугало в ту ночь. Это касается и того... Так кто же съел шоколад Киллера? Правда, в этой истории было много вопросов. И вы можете подумать, что узнали ответы на всех них, но нет. Это ошибочное предположение.
Это то, на что ответа нет. Так как эти все загадки должны оставаться неразгаданными. И только вы сами поймете, что истина, а что - ложь. Вы сами решаете, как ответить.
Продолжение следует...
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isolaradiale · 4 years
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(full size comic image can be found here!)                                          ☆               ☆                ☆
“And… that should do it.” 𝛿Caeli sighed, punctuating his words with a few taps of the keyboard and putting his drink back down on the desk.
“Look this over for me?” “Do I look like Bellatrix to you? You think I can just read code with my own eyeballs and say whether this should work or not?” “I wouldn’t sell yourself short.” He answered with a wry smile. A nice way of saying Aspidiske wasn’t getting out of this one, she regrettably realized. Moving from her spot with a groan, she propped her elbows against the back of the old man’s desk chair with a bored expression.
“Yeah yeah, looks great--Hold it. This isn’t even the same thing you were typing twenty minutes ago.” “Ah, very good! See, I knew you were capable of reading it with your eyeballs, as you said.”
“You think you’re funny don’t you, Grandpa.”
Gritting her teeth to block out the sound of a hearty laugh, she scrolled through each line, reaching a couple times to tap something on the keyboard in front of him.
“...What’s that line there.” “A choice bank.” “What for?” “I thought it might be courteous to allow them to decide where they want to go.” “Why.” “Well, if people choose an environment they like, they’re more apt to explore it, yes? Why choose someone who isn’t equipped to handle it?” “Because it’s fun watching them squirm, that’s why. I’m changing this.” “Hey--” “Oh nooo, I’m gonna hit Run! Ohhh nooo!” “Now see here, I--”
The next sequence of events all passed within seconds. 𝛿Caeli’s fingers hit ‘undo’, Aspidiske moved to push his hand away with her own and deployed the RUN button with the other. Both collided with the glass on the table, knocking its mostly full contents onto the desk. A mixture of ice and sweet liquid flooded between the keys and into the cracks of the dashboard as Aspidiske pulled her companion backward sharply, saving him the sting of electric shock. The monitor split into several bright, jarring colors before attempting to pull itself back together, and numbers and symbols jumped from place to place before everything went blank for a few agonizing seconds. Both exhaled when the monitor whirred back to life, with the following prompt flickering and glitching across the screen.
                                        [ OPERATION S.H.O.R.E ]                                             [ STATUS: ACTIVE]
Not too long after that ordeal, the click of the intercom and a long, disappointed sigh cut the silence. The deadly even voice of Pleiades spoke into the room. “You two. In my office. Now.”
                                            ☆               ☆                ☆ Your phones switch on by themselves; the cafe televisions turn on, the daily news changes, your phone calls all display the same message over any visual media they can. But the person who appears in the broadcast is an elderly man, sitting at a table in a semi-professional manner, and a smaller woman behind him cackling.
“Hello! Hello, good evening, everyone. This is the first time we’ve met like this, ah? It’s good to see you on a personal level--” “As personal as a giant broadcast can be.” “...Ahem. You can call me Delta Caeli. Behind me is Aspidiske.” “Don’t drag me into this, old man.” “I’m here to report that there are several islands off the coast of Spirale that have recently cleared from the mist. Given what happened a couple months ago when a mysterious object appeared, we’re unsure if the GPU has a hand in this or not. I’ll be frank with you, my friends, there aren’t enough of us to explore the islands ourselves. That’s where you all come in, I hope!” “Not like you all have that much of a choice, after all. Cooperation is key, or something, something...” “On your devices, I’ve sent something of a ticket for your island excursions. There are four that we’ve monitored in total, so you have the option of being transported to any one of those. Once we’ve collected enough information on the islands, we’ll bring you right back, safe and sound. We’ll be here, monitoring your progress as--”
From off-camera, something seems to spark and pop menacingly, along with a hissing noise that makes the old man lose a bit of color.
“...Well, I trust you’ll do fine! If you’ll excuse me.”
He grabs his cane, and with a bit of effort, 𝛿Caeli rises from his chair. Aspidiske takes the seat in front of the camera.
“Uh, guess that’s one way to get the job don-”
The monitors cut the broadcast abruptly, and on your devices, a prompt appears.
[ Welcome to Operation SHORE: Surviving Hazards Of Relaxing Escapes! Please choose your island destination: ]
Haugst Isle
Resources: Plentiful (manufactured)
Shelter: Provided
Danger rating: High
Tags: Monsters, Prison, Laboratory
Nommin Isle
Resources: Plentiful (natural)
Shelter: None
Danger rating: Low
Tags: Tropical, Deserted, Beautiful
Foss Isle
Resources: Plentiful (natural)
Shelter: Minimal (caves)
Danger rating: Moderate
Tags: Volcano, Dinosaurs, Jungle
Volaat Isle
Resources: Moderate-Low (luxury)
Shelter: Moderate (abandoned ships)
Danger rating: Low
Tags: Sunken ships, Storms, Small
(Detailed descriptions of each island can be found Here!)
Upon choosing your destination, your phone screen will glitch out for a few seconds, and you’ll suddenly and instantly vanish from your place in Spirale. As soon as you disappear, you reappear on the island you chose (or perhaps a different island than what you picked altogether) with your island-issued cell phone as your only belonging.
                                           ☆               ☆                ☆ 
So, what’s happened?
Your characters have suddenly appeared on one of the mystery islands outside of Spirale, and must survive and thrive on the island they’ve chosen/landed on. This includes things like finding food and water, making shelter, and fending off the elements and creatures that you encounter during your extended stays.
Am I limited to one island?
Nope! Due to the system shorting and glitching out on occasion, it’s entirely possible for your character to wind up on a completely different island in the blink of an eye. It’s also possible to build some kind of raft or ship and sail to one of the other islands! (If you know how to sail and the weather is kind to you…)
You can also use means like flying, freezing a bridge, riding a dolphin, or whatever your powers would allow you to do to get from one island to the other.
HOWEVER if you sail too far away from the islands, you’ll run into the mists that usually surround Spirale, and you’ll succumb to the safe effects they have under normal circumstances and sail right into Davy Jones’ Locker… (...and die.)
How do I get back to Spirale?
It’s impossible to get from the islands to Spirale by any means of transport (sailing, flying, teleporting, etc.)
However, if you’ve met a grisly end and died on one of the islands, you’ll respawn in Spirale, and won’t be able to return to the islands.
Do our phones work?
They sure do! You can even still use the internet on them, if you’ve met the rank requirement to get it. They charge with solar power and are waterproof, but they won’t survive being smashed or broken, so don’t do anything reckless with them!
Do I have to go to an island to participate in the event?
Not necessarily. As long as you have a thread or drabble that’s related to the event, that will count toward participation. (For example, if your character in Spirale City were to make a phone call to another character stuck on one of the islands, that would count.)
Do I have to explore and survive and put my muse in danger?
Not at all! This event is designed to be versatile; you can take the opportunity to build from the ground up and bond with your friends (and enemies?) and have a laid-back vibe if you want. You can have a dangerous expedition to find resources and shelter with peril at every corner, too. You can even ignore the survival aspect and finally have that cool one-on-one duel with your rival atop a rocky cliff during a lightning storm where no one will interfere!
You can help or hinder anyone who arrives on the island and make new friends or enemies. You can learn to fish, hunt or forage for food. You can play in the ocean or run for your life. It’s up to how you want to play the event!
Do drabbles count?
Yup! A drabble of 500+ words will get you credit for this event.
Is there an event reward for this one?
The reward is the friendships you made along the way… and maybe a cool sea shell.
How long will the event run?
This event will run until Friday, September 4th,  at 11:59:59 pm EST!
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th3okamid3monart · 4 years
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Ya no estoy aquí, another take on immigrant stories.
(This will have SPOILERS for Ya no estoy aqui, I recommend watching it first. It is very touching and heavy tale of belonging and loneliness) 
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Sinopsis:
Ulises takes is the leader of the cumbia loving group Terkos in Monterrey, Mexico. But when he gets involve on a gang related accident he has to leave his home so his family and him can be safe, taking up a new home in the distant city of New York.  
Writing-Directing-Acting
This piece of media was one of the best made in Mexico so far. Mexico has been growing in the production and creation of different movies which resonate with a diverse of groups. This time it was the turn of one of the most negated states and music genre ever.
Ya no estoy aqui has a well done balance in the writing, expressing and pointing out different subjects that plague the world; from immigration to corruption, from cultural sub groups to violent gangs and, in the background, the injustices a society faces when they are being neglected by the government or the violence has grown into an out of control normality.
The point of view we follow is from Ulises how he works around and moves to survive, but we can also see how the people around him reacts like the ones he left behind in Monterrey, how their lives have changed so much due to him being away and how the situation in his city is changing.
We can also see the point of view of other people who are in the same situation as Ulises, although they’re not face with as much difficulty as him due to knowing the language.
It explores how the mindset changes, how the characters experience life in the new places and how those places change them. It brings up the hardships of being an immigrant and how awfully homesick they feel, and yet we can also see how those people can act so harshly between each other, respectively how 3 of the tertiary characters treated Ulises just for the way he looked. It’s very clear they are from Mexico as well, it shows how people in general can treat each other as bad if not worse than people from a different country.
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Ulises is a very well made character, it shows he is a whole person with feelings, hardships and desires. The actor, Juan Daniel García Treviño, makes a great job by showing the difference between him living in his home, being happy, bright and engaging, and living in big city, where he begins to act isolated, serious and having little to nothing of humor. The change of tendencies and attitudes can be quite hard, since you’re told you need to practically change the character. You need to change who you are. That’s exactly what happens to the character and Juan Daniel does is amazingly.
The idea of being ripped away from your home, your family, your culture and being thrown into the shark tank that is, not only other country, but the most violent and cynical city in the whole country (fighting for the 1st place is Los Angeles and Texas in my inexpert opinion).
There were some odd acting moments, mostly during the group parts where Ulises is with the Terkos. And curiously, it’s not the dancing parts. It’s their interactions at times, they are a bit stiff and awkward. There are other shots where they are seen laughing and playing, and those look very natural. Maybe those shots were the first one they were doing.
The director Fernando Frias understands the importance of belonging somewhere. The whole film is about that and you can perceive it everywhere the character goes. The concept is a very important and powerful one among the sentiments of loneliness and sadness which are used as well.
Seeing the character struggle in a world that he doesn’t fit in, that he doesn’t feel its home is the main and most important thing everyone can relate to. Even if you aren’t an immigrant, you can understand how awful feeling alone and feeling an absence or emptiness in your being can feel. We can sympathize with that and maybe get a more understanding view of the people surrounding us. We only want to be understood, we only want to be seen as part of something or somewhere where one can be themselves without being a mocking or something.  
Photography
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Amazing shots by Damian Garcia. Another work I’ve seen from his is La vida Precoz y Breve de Sabina Rivas. Between this two you can see he tends to work with darkness, not all the time just very commonly. And he does it VERY well. People have a bad habit of underexposing their scenes, to the point of ABSOLUTE DARKNESS (I’m looking at you, fucking USA horror movies that only woRK ON FUCKING BLUES AND GRAY TONES AS WELL MY GO-). Mr. Garcia does it perfectly and balanced, you can see the silouttes in the dark, you can see the movement.
The shots are very active, by this I mean they are sequence shots. Sequence shots follow the character around, there are also zoom outs and zoom ins mostly used in the flashbacks, which makes it have a more nostalgic feeling. There’s a specific shot where Ulises is dancing with los Terkos and the camera zooms out to make the shot a perfect square, showing them in the center while the rest of the screen is in almost pitch black. That scene is perfect, it doesn’t need a slow mo, it doesn’t need music, and it only needs the energy, the laughs, and the music coming from the radio to give us what Ulises want.
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The colors are balanced, not oversaturated but still bright enough. When it comes to viewing cities and towns, photographers tend to use a very cliché color scheme. For a city like New York it’s always kind of red, grey and blue tones that can also look very opaque, meanwhile for Mexican towns, they always use the yellowish, orange tones. One can get very tired of those you know? Which is why I’m very happy to observe this photography specially coming from a Mexican. There are very amazing photographers and Mr. Garcia will go even bigger soon with his amazing work.
Sound
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Awesome work, capturing the essence of what the parties and dance spots sound and feel like is a complex thing to do. Not many manage to capture something that isn’t describe as only noise. It is an experience, it’s something you feel not only hear. The music is a very important part in this movie so the way it is listened from radios, the transition from being in the plane of the character and then to a type of score, while also giving us the personal taste of Ulises is a well done edited piece.
Yuri Laguna has done a lot of works, I don’t personally know many but I did get a very good experience with this movies sound, music and effects. The sound effects sounded like something for the movie and not taken from somewhere else and sounded exactly where they are intended to do so. From the foot-steps to the mumbles between characters when they are inside a store.
I really like the scene where Ulises is at a store and he is about to buy a speaker that reminds him of his home. You can hear the boss and Ulises talking and making hand signs but you can’t understand what they are saying. It’s a little detail I really enjoy. I will have to keep an open ear for any other work of Mr. Laguna
Make up, Art and Costume design 
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I don’t even know where to start. I’m very sure most of the places they went to are the real ones, so scouting was done very, very well and amazing to get those lovely and breathtaking shots from a high place. But the makeup?? The clothes? THE SPACES? They entire art department did so well! There are so many details that can tell you about the characters. This is what is called subtle storytelling. The scenes that stick a lot to me were the ones that took place in the home of one of Ulises friends. The whole room is dark, and her and her family are watching TV. They have anguish in their faces, and when the shot is flipped to see their backs, you can see 2 things: her phone ringing, because Ulises is trying to contact her, and the TV. Now the one thing that could caught your eye would be the phone BUT the TV has more information for you, which is how Monterrey is having not only an increase of gangs but also an increase of poverty and police violence.
The clothes are very distinguish, I don’t know much about many sub-groups. I didn’t heard of Kolombia before this movie so this is a nice look into the culture that has been popular over there. The main actor is actually from the state so maybe the costume design team got a little info from him and obviously do their own investigation. The clothing’s pop a lot, mostly due to the style (very big and long shirts and pant, and the signature white shoes of los Terkos). The hairstyle is what you would get at first sight though, it being so obviously made by the own character.
In our own modism: Se la rifaron.
I have seen very detailed works, and this one didn’t go underappreciated since the people who work in it got a nomination for an Ariel (the most prestigious Mexican film prize).
Custom design: Magdalena de la Riva y Gabriela Fernández
Make up: María Elena López y Itzel Peña García
Art design: Taísa Malouf Rodrigues y Gino Fortebuono
I didn’t found more info about this people but I’m sure they will go far if they keep up their amazing work.
Editing
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I’m pretty sure the final product is what the director intended. It has clean transitions and well done jump cuts, although I think they used a lot of black ins I think the rest is fine. You don’t need to do super specific or out of the box editing when it comes to a solid story that is intended to be realistic. The pace is good and going back and forward between the flashbacks and the present gives you a more dynamic story. There are some confusing points when it comes to the dream sequences, but I think that’s mostly the point of those. The character would get into points he can’t differentiate what’s real and what’s fake. His desires are interfering with his present to the point of confusion.
Editor: Yibrán Asaud and Fernando Frias.
Conclusion
Immigration is an overused theme, a very well-known subject and a problem that has been happening for years. Problem that hasn’t been fix, if countries were at least trying to fix the problems there wouldn’t have to be so many people putting their lives in danger to travel to a safer place. Then again, people have the power and sometimes power corrupts the person (which is why I think a lot of gangs exist too). Even though it is an overused them, many writers and directors have tried to make compelling stories and characters so the subject is not only forgotten but also inspiring for the people to help others, to sympathize and to understand this people.
Ulises is not a 100% good person, nor a bad person, he is a kid who just wants to spend time with his friends and have fun while doing listening to something he loves and feels a connection with.
Another story of immigration that I really enjoy is Guten Tag, Ramon but that story is way to idealistic, while Ya no estoy aqui is more realistic. There’s also La jaula de Oro but that has a very, very dark ending, realistic non the less but still with a more pessimistic and hopeless ending. This movie kind of stands in a middle ground, where the character just comes back to a changed home.
I’ve read some people saying this movie doesn’t have a resolution, but I think that’s the point. The resolution is that life doesn’t stop. A movie with an anticlimactic ending is not a bad movie (at least not all the time), it just makes you think.
Ulises returns to his home which has changed. He didn’t had the opportunity to see it change and change with it. He will have to start from 0, it’s like going to New York all over again. Life is about change and sometimes that change can come from us or others. Things will impact you one way or another, and sometimes life goes on without you.
You have to decide what to do when you are faced with harshness. Although this movie is mostly about belonging somewhere, the ending teaches you about decisions and choosing.
Ulises chooses to return home, he chooses home even when his friends have move on from him, even if his family has turned their back on him, he chooses to come back because he missed it there and not all is bad. There’s a lot of bad going, but at least he is home now. At least he is here. (Al menos el está aquí)
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Sincerely moved, TOD.
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kevrocksicehouse · 4 years
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The Vast of Night. D: Andrew Patterson.
For a movie made on a shoestring’s idea of a shoestring budget, “The Vast of Night” pulls you in right away – by displacing you. In a pristine, beautifully lit suburban living room a 1950s-style cheap television set is playing a grainy, black-and-white Sci-fi anthology series: “Paradox Theater ‘The Vast of Night’. The camera pulls closer to the screen and then through it, (its images now once again in vibrant color) towards what looks like the platonic ideal of a high school basketball stadium (It’s Cuyahoga, New Mexico, late 50s.) The camera’s been following Everett, a nerdy looking wisecracking young man whom everybody knows (an alumnus who has an evening radio DJ shift). Everett been called to fix an electrical problem and is then dismissed (“I asked for Emmitt, not Everett”) but he meets up with Fay Crocker an equally bright 16-year-old student (they have matching horn-rimmed glasses) who wants his advice on using her new tape recorder. The sequence if filmed like an Aaron Sorkin walk-and-talk but with Altman-like overlapping vocals and dialogue heavy with AV jargon and a slang that Everett might be making up as he goes along (“Go ahead, razz my berries”). Unlike the usual sci-fi buildup of bland “normal” people dealing with creeping ominousness we see smart, funny people dealing with a day-to-day that actually seems interesting. Everett walks Fay to her job as a telephone switchboard operator and as they talk you get the buzz of two smart people connecting with each other. But they’re shot from behind in a tracking shot that looks like Sam Raimi’s buzzsaw camera if David Lynch got ahold of it. You see them walk through the kind of small town where nice houses can give way to watertowers and powerlines. In less than 15 minutes we get a sense of the town and have met people we care about. Then at work Fay starts to hear odd sounds through the wires.
I’m not giving away too much of what happens next. The two teens investigate where the sounds might be coming from (in close to real time, the only part of the film that stretches credulity) and find more than they bargained for. Patterson uses sound as well as any director I know (the switchboard scene is a masterpiece of slow-developing eeriness) and he’s smart enough to let the screen go dark when an old man talks about an army test he was involved in (He’s African-American like his fellow soldiers were. They were chosen because in 1950s America their race would paint them as unreliable witnesses). The denouement isn’t really one that would surprise any X-Files fan, but that’s what those first 15 minutes were for. When Philip Kaufman remade Invasion of the Body Snatchers, he populated it with post-counterculture eccentrics so we’d feel what was lost when those people’s personalities were erased. The noise and chatter of Patterson’s beginning sets up the quiet at the end. The film’s title isn’t random.
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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The 21 Best Christmas Horror Movies
https://ift.tt/3lZGPFt
Technicolor lights are about to illuminate every other home in the neighborhood; carolers are marching through the streets; even that old tree in Rockefeller is shining brightly.
For some folks, that’s enough to make you want to grab an axe. But don’t do that. Watch demented men dressed as Santa Claus or a demon Krampus indulge your Anti-Christmas sentiments with maximum gore. Indeed, this list isn’t about the most charming, heartwarming, or schmaltzy Christmas viewing traditions. Nah, this is about the 20 grossest, nastiest, and all around most fun Christmas horror movies. The kind where the greatest gift you’re going to get on Christmas morning is escaping with your life and maybe some psychological triggers whenever you see jolly men in red suits.
Yep, these are the very best Christmas horror movies. Ho. Freaking. Ho.
Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)
Almost certainly one of the sweetest, most positive, and upbeat Christmas movies on the list is this wonderful feel good musical romance from director John McPhail, which also happens to be a zombie movie. It follows a group of friends in a small Scottish town who are just about to finish school and are making plans for the future when a zombie outbreak lands. 
Incredibly catchy tunes which take inspiration from Buffy musical episode Once More With Feeling, mix with inventive festive kills – zombie snowman decapitation is a highlight – in a way that manages not to tonally jar. It’s mostly thanks to the super-likeable performances of the young cast, headed up by Ella Hunt, and the teenage troubles, romances, and heartbreak which form the backdrop of the movie. Paul Kaye also pops up as the school’s tyrannical headmaster – his musical numbers aren’t the best but he brings cartoon villain energy to an unusual but rather adorable Christmas horror that’s way better than you might expect.
– Rosie Fletcher
Better Watch Out (2016)
Home Alone is surely one of the most popular and iconic Christmas movies of all time, though it is not, of course, a horror. However, if it was, it would look something like Better Watch Out, a slick reinvention of the home invasion sub-genre. Olivia DeJonge plays babysitter Ashley, who attempts to protect her charge, 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller), when they are threatened by intruders in his home. But all is not as it seems.
DeJonge and Miller spar beautifully in a movie which plays with gender and coming of age tropes and includes handfuls of gruesome set pieces, while Ed Oxenbould brings comic relief. This is clever, funny and gruesome stuff from director Chris Peckover which might not become a new Christmas tradition but should definitely be watched at least once.
– Rosie Fletcher
Black Christmas (1974)
Getting stabbed by a unicorn head to the tune of carolers singing “Silent Night” is probably not how you want to spend Christmas Eve. This pre-Scream holiday slasher claims its victims in a sorority house haunted by creepy phone calls (sans ghost mask), demonic noises, bodies eerily shrouded in plastic wrap, and one perverse killer whose voice alone is enough to freeze your blood.
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When an unidentified caller keeps harassing your entire sorority house with obscene things you can only half-understand (because he sounds like a deranged Donald Duck that laughs like the Joker), you should run even if it is 10 degrees outside. The blizzard of murders keeps raging with one victim dragged screaming by a hook, and another bludgeoned to death. Never mind the one suffocated by plastic wrap and left next to the window like the vacant face of a doll staring out into the night. You’ll hardly sleep in heavenly peace after this one.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
Christmas Evil (aka You Better Watch Out) (1980)
In his one and only film as writer/director, Lewis Jackson crafted a smart and clever black comedy that’s more character study than straight horror film. John Waters insists it’s a comedy about a closeted transvestite (of a sort), but it’s much more than that—it’s the Taxi Driver of Yuletide shockers. Brandon Maggart plays a man who takes Christmas way too seriously. His home is filled with bright holiday decorations all year-round while Christmas carols are playing on the stereo. Santa is his role model, a symbol of all that is good and just in the world. He even works at a toy factory.
He so identifies with Santa, he takes to spying on the neighbor kids, keeping his own carefully annotated naughty and nice lists. But when he recognizes the level of cynicism and hypocrisy among his co-workers, bosses, and the people around town as the most joyous time of the year approaches, well, he goes a little funny in the head. He reaches for the suit and beard and axe, determined to reward the good and punish the evil.
Maggart has since tried to desperately distance himself from the film, but he gives a remarkable performance here as a completely isolated figure with a head swimming with both joy and rage. In the end, the film remains king of the sub-subgenre. Screw It’s a Wonderful Life and Rudolph. Apart from Blast of Silence and Invasion U.S.A., Christmas Evil is the only holiday film I watch annually.
– Jim Knipfel 
A Christmas Horror Story (2015)
Admittedly, a number of horror-based Christmas movie have gone with the anthology angle for their storytelling. Hell, this isn’t even the only anthology film on this list. A Christmas Horror Story may not be on a lot of people’s radar, but it’s a worthy installment that goes to some unusual places purely because both the Christmas and anthology playgrounds have gotten so bloated at this point. This film also benefits from being executed by a cabal of directors who are responsible for directing some of the best horror movies to come out of Canada in passing years, such as Splice, the Black Christmas remake, and the Ginger Snaps trilogy.
A Christmas Horror Story deliciously uses a radio DJ (William Shatner) as the connective tissue that holds together the four stories that comprise the film. Parables on ghost possession, clone doppelgangers, Krampus, and zombie elves all get their due here. The film also has a pretty inspired ending that actually casts the picture in a whole new light. It’s got Santa Claus fighting Krampus. What’s not to like?
– Daniel Kurland 
Dead of Night (1945)
Never play hide and go seek in a house where someone was murdered. While it might be best known for Michael Redgrave’s night-terror-inducing ventriloquist dummy scene that sparked the phobia of possessed puppets, Dead of Night also invites you to a Christmas party with a spectral guest. Spacecase Sally’s genuine terror at realizing what she thinks she saw is what she really saw will forever have you second-guessing shadows creeping in the cold. 
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What is obvious in this scene—encroaching darkness and shadows looming over what a place you know is haunted without ever having to hear the big reveal—is hardly as chilling as what is not so obvious until the truth silently materializes. The ghost of the little boy plays hide-and-seek with the other children as if warm blood courses through his veins. Unlike many stereotypical see-through phantoms of the era, this one doesn’t have that telltale translucence which would set off a chorus of screams. Being almost disturbingly normal is exactly what makes him so terrifying. 
– Elizabeth Rayne 
Eyes Wide Shut (1999)
Eyes Wide Shut was the non-denominational star at the top of Stanley Kubrick’s Christmas tree. Originally conceived as a Woody Allen vehicle, it almost starred Steve Martin after Allen insisted on reading the script from right to left. It is as much a cautionary tale as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, bringing the whole family together with a different Christmas tree in almost every frame.  
Kubrick pours on the cheer from the opening sequence at the Christmas party where the first gifts are unwrapped, and oh boy are they unwrapped. Bill Harford, played by Tom Cruise, dives right into the muffled spirit of giving after he performs a more than charitable deed for the party’s host, played by Sydney Pollack.
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Harford spends most of the film looking for the perfect gift like a slow motion version of Jingle All the Way, rushing around from New York City’s famous toy repository FAO Schwartz to downtown specialty shops, to the suburbs, where he can find collectors’ editions. Cruise pays Harford like a wooden windup toy, and not a particularly cute one, either. In spite of all the colorful lights and trips above and below the rainbow, Harford just can’t get into the Christmas spirit. He’s not even moved by the uplifting seasonal tunings of “I Want a Boy for Christmas” by the Del-Vettes. He recovers his seasonal facilities while humming along to the chant during the climactic illuminati sex party, though! The song is actually “Here Comes Santa Claus” sung backwards in Latin, adding more menace to the proceedings than Silas Barnaby brought to Toyland in The March of the Wooden Soldiers.
– Tony Sokol 
Gremlins (1984)
Santa doesn’t exist… unless it’s your father in a red suit who met his untimely end trying to slide down the chimney with a sack of presents before getting stuck. Don’t tell that to the innocent bat-like ears of a harmless (for now) Mogwai. It’s exactly the kind of story you expect to hear while hunkering down in the shadows with a flashlight while a bunch of leathery green things with too many teeth ransack the neighborhood.
And as for Santa? That smell coming from the fireplace weeks later was no dead cat. Worst. Christmas story. Ever. 
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This movie should be on every hardcore horror fan’s holiday playlist just for the musical monstrosity of those reptilian things decked out in Santa hats and earmuffs singing “Deck the Halls” at the neighbors’ door, sheet music and all. This is continuing proof that animals have a sixth sense, because her yowling cat senses something off about the voices warbling “Joy to the World” outside. She’s right to have an aversion to Christmas carolers.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
Holidays (2015)
There have been so many holiday-themed horror films at this point—reaching Christmas and going far, far beyond that—so why not make an anthology film that takes that idea to the extreme? Holidays hits the expected staples such as Christmas, Halloween, and Valentine’s Day, but part of the fun here is how holidays with lesser expectations like Easter or St. Patrick’s Day deliver some truly horrifying content (seriously, the St. Patrick’s Day segment is disturbing, bonkers chaos).
The Christmas segment comes courtesy of Scott Stewart (Legion) and has Seth Green trying to survive the holiday as he attempts to get his son the perfect gift. Stewart’s installment feels very reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode with virtual reality, consumerism, and the dangers of mob mentality all playing their part here.
A lot of these anthology films also try to bank off of the name recognition and notoriety of the assembled directors, but Holidays proudly features a collection of mostly fresh faces (although Kevin Smith and Starry Eye’s Kevin Kolsch contribute segments). It’s fun to discover a bunch of new blossoming talents here.
– Daniel Kurland 
Jack Frost (1997)
This ain’t the cringeworthy father/son bonding vehicle starring Michael Keaton. No, this is the Jack Frost where the killer snowman’s nose functions as both a killing tool and a device to sexually assault his victims. All square? But hey, at the least the film isn’t afraid to ride its ridiculous premise as hard as possible.
First of all, an actual killer named Jack Frost crashes into a truck of “genetics material” that causes him to transform into this cold abomination in the first place. That sets the tone pretty nicely for the abundant murders, sex, and plot holes that plague the town of Snowmonton (yup). It’s hard to believe that this film got made, with all of the visuals being some real spectacles that you don’t typically see in the horror genre.
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Hasbro Gift Guide: Best Hasbro Toys, Action Figures, and Games for the Holidays
By Chris Cummins
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The 16 Best Winter Horror Movies
By Daniel Kurland and 3 others
Jack Frost is the perfect Christmas horror film to shut your brain off and watch, or the title that you should be selecting right in the middle of your deep eggnog haze. It’s utter nonsense, but it knows that it is and has tons of fun with itself. We need more talented individuals trying to tap into the killer snowman subgenre. There’s still a true classic waiting to come to life here.
– Daniel Kurland 
Krampus (2015)
Morbidly funny in its anti-holiday sarcasm and ridiculous demons, Krampus is like a mashup of the Griswolds, the Grinch, and every mythical beast that has ever been rumored to devour children on the naughty list. You’d rather get coal in your stocking than a killer jack-in-the-box jump scare… or find chilling hoof prints in the snow that are definitely not from Rudolph.
Krampus is one Yuletide monster actually worse than the Grinch. The grisly inspiration for this tale is a Germanic one about a hairy, horned, and cloven-hooved demon who stuffs naughty children in his sack and either beats them with a wooden switch or eats them (depending on who you ask). Also, his heart won’t grow three sizes from gorging on human flesh, either.
This version of Krampus is also hungry for anyone who’s lost their holiday spirit—whether or not you otherwise qualify for the nice list. Watch this with the lights off for the full effect of the power outage that works to the creature’s advantage as he goes hunting for holiday nonbelievers. Kids, don’t scorn Santa or Krampus will come to collect you.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
There are some of us who know this movie verbatim and to the point where we will shamelessly break out singing “This is Halloween” and raise Jack’s quasi-Shakespearean monologue from the dead even in the middle of July. Or keep warning people that tragedy’s at hand. Or correct anyone who says there are 365 days until next Halloween by growling “364!” The stop-motion animation saga of the talking skeleton turned “Sandy Claws” bewitched an entire generation of ‘90s kids. 
Even people who hate Halloween will stare with delight and awe when Jack’s skull bursts out of a snowdrift, and he first puts colored lights in his eye sockets and explores every “what’s this?” in Christmas Town like a spook in a coffin shop. You just can’t help but love the adventurous skeleton, even if he does end up making haunted houses out of people’s living rooms on Christmas Eve. Whether you’d rather be making Christmas with strangely somber carols, reanimated reindeer or toys that bite back, it’s now an officially unofficial holiday classic.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
P2 (2007)
On the sillier end of the Christmas horror spectrum comes P2, a film named after a section in a parking lot, starring Wes Bentley and Rachel Nichols. She’s a business woman trapped in a multi-story parking garage on Christmas Eve, he’s the insane Security Guard who’s obsessed with her and really wants her to try his festive eggnog, so to speak. 
Camp and gory, this is the directorial debut of Franck Khalfoun who would follow it up with a remake of Maniac. The movie was co-written by Alexandre Aja who made one of the greatest cat-and-mousers ever in Switchblade Romance. The set up is formulaic, perhaps, but the game performances and relentlessness of the action makes this worthwhile. And if that’s not enough check out a deranged Bentley dressed as Santa, for the angel on the top of the Christmas tree.
– Rosie Fletcher
Rare Exports (2010)
There couldn’t possibly be a more sinister place to search for Santa’s ancient burial mound than in the frigid depths of Lapland. It’s the same supposedly enchanted place Dick van Dyke hiked to in the search for Santa in an ‘80s musical Christmas special, except this time you won’t find him in a cozy cottage with stockings hung by the chimney with care. You won’t find the guy in red from the mall, but anything that takes a disembodied pig’s head as bait couldn’t possibly be jingle-belling on a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, especially when he seems to have a ravenous appetite for said reindeer. 
This time, “the spirit of the season” is literally the most malicious Christmas spirit that has ever terrorized the Yuletide. Even if you watch the whole thing in Finnish and don’t understand a word except the screaming, the ghost of the child in you that really did believe there was a guy in the North Pole will be forever traumatized. This glaze-eyed zombie incarnation of Mr. Claus doesn’t laugh like a bowl full of jelly. You better watch out, indeed.
– Elizabeth Rayne
Santa Claws (1996)
You do have to wonder what happened to John Russo along the line. 30 years after co-writing Night of the Living Dead, he came up with this decidedly sleazy but sadly unoriginal wonderment, which was much more focused on boobs than Yuletide butchery. In what by that point had become a battered cliché of the Slasher Santa subgenre, a young boy named Wayne (Grant Kramer) sees his mom having sex with a man wearing a Santa hat (!), and so murders them both. I’m not exactly sure how this transference would work in Freudian terms, but when he gets older, he a) becomes obsessed with a low-budget scream queen named Raven (played by low-budget scream queen Debbie Rochon) and b) decides he’s Santa.
As you might imagine, stalking someone when you’re wearing a Santa suit is no mean feat, but Wayne gives it his best shot. Most of the film, however, focuses on Raven and her extended family as she gets undressed a lot and wonders not only why that creep in the Santa suit keeps showing up everywhere, but why everyone around her keeps dying in a particularly bloody fashion. It can feel like there are two films going on here, a by-the-numbers stalker/slasher movie and a holiday horror film, which leaves me thinking Russo had one of them in mind, but after some eight-year-old smarty-pants came up with that clever “Santa Claws” pun, well, he just had to run with it.
– Jim Knipfel
Santa’s Slay (2005)
Christmas can sure scare the Dickens out of people. Hence why you can’t not watch a holiday horror flick in which Santa is the Antichrist, sentenced to 1,000 years of delivering gifts after losing a curling match with an angel, and played by former pro wrestler Bill “Who’s Next?” Goldberg.
As the only son of Satan (you know what they say about rearranging the letters in that name) whose grim legend is immortalized in the Book of Claus, he can now at last spread Christmas fear with weapons, karate kicks, hand grenades, exploding presents, and his own perverse idea of what “Ho ho ho” should really mean. Them’s the breaks once the bet’s terms are done.
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MST3K: A Christmas Episodes Guide for Mystery Science Theater 3000
By Gavin Jasper
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Christmas in The Twilight Zone: Revisiting Night of the Meek
By Arlen Schumer
Santa’s methods of murder are fiendishly festive—to say the least. There is no naughty or nice list when it comes to an insatiable appetite for violence. He even knocks out poseurs in red suits and drives a sleigh with a rocket engine like it’s the Batmobile. Mall Santas everywhere are shaking in their pleather boots.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)
Naughty children get punished with more than just a stocking full of coal in this Christmas chiller. Just the opening scene with all those empty-eyed animatronic toys haunting a window display after-hours should tell you that this is not a movie that’s going to end in visions of sugarplums. Forget that it’s supposed to be the season of all things magical. Those things can be more terrifying than every single plastic skeleton and gaping zombie mask you’ll ever see in a haunted house around Halloween.
You’d better watch out for that psycho in the red suit who grabs a hatchet off the wall as if it was his bag full of toys and packs an automatic pistol in his fur-lined pocket, murdering misbehaving kids he’s been watching undercover of shadow. This sadistic Santa clearly doesn’t believe in sliding down chimneys—and the only red he’s interested in wearing is the blood of innocents. If that won’t convince you to stay awake because he sees you when you’re sleeping, you must be Freddie Krueger.
– Elizabeth Rayne
Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987)
Three years after the shit-storm sparked by the original’s ad campaign, some smart cookie decided a sequel was necessary. A tough call there, given most all the principals were killed off pretty thoroughly the first time around, but still, right?
But there was money to be made, so they brought in an untested director (Lee Harry), a mostly untested crew, and a cast of mostly non-professional actors. After a half-dozen writers took a swipe at the script, they came up with a confounding but tepid rehash of the first film. This time around, and mostly in flashback, we learn that after the first killer Santa was sloppily dispatched at the end of Part 1, his brother Ricky becomes determined to uncover what went wrong.
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Movies
9 Jolly Santa Slasher Movies
By Jim Knipfel
TV
100 Best Christmas TV Episodes of All Time
By Wesley Mead
He pays a visit to the sadistic Mother Superior at the Catholic asylum where his brother had been kept, and before you can say “ho ho ho,” Ricky ends up donning the red and white suit himself to do a little rampaging, though without nearly half of his brother’s imagination. They even used the same fucking poster design, just slapped a “2” on it. I guess hoping they might raise the same sort of ruckus the first one had. Sadly, it was too late for that.
– Jim Knipfel 
Sint (2010)
Dutch director Dick Maas took some early steps toward Krampus territory with his re-imagining of the legend of the warm-hearted Saint Nick. Borrowing heavily from earlier Italian, Spanish, and American horror films, as well as Danish folklore, “Sinterklaas” here was actually a bloodthirsty medieval murderer and all around brute who oversaw a savage reign of terror. Finally fed up with all his nonsense, the ornery local villagers banded together on the night of Dec. 5 and lynched him. As per tradition, however, in the moments before he died Sinterklaas vowed vengeance from beyond the grave, promising to return every 32 years on that very night to do bad and icky things to the villagers’ descendants.
Over the centuries, the story was mainstreamed and soft-pedaled, becoming part of the local folklore. The character of Saint Nick became much more benevolent and child-friendly so as not to scare the wee folk. Then, well, wouldn’t you know it? That anniversary creeps around again, Sinterklaas is true to his word, and Amsterdam turns all bloody, leaving it up to an intrepid teenager named Frank to put a stop to the mayhem.
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Movies
The Best Christmas Movie Soundtracks of All Time
By Ivan Radford
TV
The Twilight Zone Marathon: A History of a Holiday Tradition
By Arlen Schumer
A stylish, wicked, and hugely entertaining take on the darker history of a beloved legend. It was also the top grossing film in Denmark in 2010, which either says something about the Danish film industry or the Dutch themselves.
– Jim Knipfel
Tales From the Crypt: And All Through the House (1972)
The Crypt Keeper first emerged as a ghoulish EC Comics horror host in the pages of Tales From the Crypt who crawled onto the big screen in this horror anthology, welcoming unknowing tourists to his catacombs with bony arms open. What the tourists don’t know is that they’re all recently deceased. The invite is to a subterranean story-time in which he unearths the gruesome details of their deaths with a gap-toothed grin. Creatures are obviously stirring when killer wife Joanne is stalked by a homicidal Santa in this warped homage to ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas titled (appropriately enough) “… And All Through the House.”
So it is that “O Come All Ye Faithful” is interrupted while playing on the radio by a scratchy warning of a homicidal maniac run amok. And wouldn’t you just know it, this occurs right as Joan Collins is offing her husband with a shot to the head—and then realizes she has to dismember the body before cashing in on his life insurance. Her blissfully naïve daughter lets the killer jolly old elf in, shrieking that Santa finally came before he erupts into psychopathic rage. Clement C. Moore must be turning in his grave.
– Elizabeth Rayne 
The Wolf of Snow Hollow
Certainly less purely Christmas-y than other entries on this list, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is nonetheless a wintry delight set during the holiday season. Carols play ominously in the background during key moments, and the immaculately snowy white setting of Snow Hollow, Utah is broken only by splashes of color from lights on homes and Christmas trees. Oh yes, and the blood of the titular werewolf’s victims.
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Movies
The Wolf of Snow Hollow Review: A Quirky Werewolf Movie
By Don Kaye
Movies
13 Must-See Werewolf Movies
By Mike Cecchini
Jim Cummings’ film is heavy on cozy, ski town holiday atmosphere without leaning on its actual Christmastime setting at all. But good werewolf movies are a rare breed indeed these days, and a werewolf movie set at Christmas? Well…now you know what to watch when the moon is full each December
Mike Cecchini
Got any other suggestions for Christmas horror movies that we missed? Let us know in the comments!
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malecsecretsanta · 4 years
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Merry Christmas, @magnuslightwoodbane!
I tried to include as many of your likes as I could. You had so many fun ones, and I hope you enjoy! I’ve played a little fast and loose with the show timeline and sequence of events, and I hope that’s okay. This will be a six-part fic in total, and it’ll continue to be updated regularly.
Read on AO3
*****
a love supreme
Chapter 1
I.
A splash of icy cold water and snowy slush sprays up in an arc as Alec’s boots hit the ground hard. A loud shriek of shifting metal and then a clang echoes behind him, and the rusted ladder of the old fire escape he’d jumped down from drops straight to the pavement. He barely spares it a glance. His agility rune screams across his abdomen, working double time to keep him upright and surefooted when he immediately takes off running with only a half-second’s pause to right himself.
His quarry is already a good fifteen yards ahead of him, darting across a busy street for the alleyway beyond. The glint of the seraph blade at the man’s hip flashes in the streetlights, and then he disappears into the darkness.
Alec swears under his breath and speeds up.
Three months have passed since Valentine Morgenstern was found dead on the shore of Lake Lyn. Unfortunately, ideas are much harder to kill. The Clave and every Institute across the world has spent the interim hunting down what’s left of the Circle, but new pockets keep springing up like a goddamn fairground Whack-A-Mole.
New York has had more than their fair share, but with the way Valentine had narrowed his attention onto the city, it’s not surprising. Just a pain in Alec’s ass.
Reaching the street, he dodges between the flow of pedestrian traffic and races across, slow-moving cars allowing him to slip into the alley silently. The tall buildings to either side swallow up most of the light as he crosses the entrance, the illumination of the nearby streetlights creating a borderline on the pavement. He doesn’t know how far back the rest of his team is having left them behind as soon as he saw their last straggler make a break for it, but for the moment, he’s completely on his own. Alec slows, turning cautious as he keeps every step light and quiet. The cold stings his throat and lungs, breath fogging out into the air in drifting smoke.
There are too many noises coming at him from every direction, but it’s the one sound that shouldn’t be there that alerts him, a sound he’s intimately familiar with: the whisper of metal across leather, of a weapon being drawn.
He sees the brief glimmer of activated runes along the blade as it flips through the air, and then pain explodes across his shoulder and chest, radiating down his draw arm. His bow was going to be pretty useless in close-cornered combat, anyway, but he’s effectively been muzzled in that department now.
Alec has a split-second to rip the blade out before a shadow tears away from the right, slashing wildly at him. He feels the displacement of air in front of his face and ducks, rolling through the snow and grime and wet.
The momentum and force carries his opponent forward. The sword clashes against the brick of the opposite wall with a flash of sparks. Alec finds his feet and tightens his grip on the hilt of the dagger. He throws. The dagger hits, embedding itself in the man’s back. He stumbles, losing his grip on his blade and drops to his knees.
Alec yanks his bow from his shoulders and dives in close again. The curved back of the bow finds its place against the man’s fragile neck, and Alec yanks hard. There’s a brief struggle and then a snap, and he goes still, slumping in Alec’s hold.
Alec lets go, still breathing hard from the chase and the adrenaline and the pain, and he stumbles back to fetch himself up against the wall behind him. He feels a little light-headed. It’s possible that dagger found an artery.
He just needs a minute.
There’s movement at the mouth of the alley, another figure stepping into the darkness. Alec huffs, body tensing in preparation to throw himself back into another fight.
But instead of a blow coming, there’s a sigh of relief and a soft “tsk” of exasperation. The figure comes closer, stepping over the dead body, and the vague form now comes into sharp focus.
Magnus reaches out to settle his hand against Alec’s neck.
“You couldn’t have waited one second to let me come with you?”
There’s no real accusation or heat behind the words, and Alec smiles, “Sorry.”
Magnus shakes his head, fondness in his eyes that Alec loves to see, “Shadowhunters.”
Tiny pinpricks of cold alight along Alec’s cheeks and melt, and Alec turns his face up towards the sky as the snow begins to fall in earnest. With it comes almost a blanket of quiet over the city, seeming to muffle the somewhat distant sounds of traffic and people talking, off-key but enthusiastic carols being sung by a passing group of drunk friends. From somewhere nearby, a church bell tolls the hour, the beginning of a new day.
Cool fingers find his jaw, tilting his head back down, and he’s met with the warmth of Magnus’s smile to send a frisson of heat through his body. His head aches in a way that means he’s probably got a concussion, and he can feel blood still dripping sluggishly down his arm, but the dull throbbing pain of it is of far less concern then the taste of Magnus’s lips.
Magnus smirks a bit, and when Alec focuses again, it seems he’s noticed where Alec’s attention has drifted.
“You’re looking a little delirious. How much blood have you lost already?”
Alec shrugs, immediately wincing when his right shoulder protests with another sharp rush of pain.
“Eh, I’ve probably got a couple more pints in me, I’m fine.”
Magnus snorts, shaking his head again as he gets his arm around Alec’s waist and snaps his fingers. A swirling vortex of golden light appears in front of them.
“Well, I can’t say this isn’t the first Christmas I’ve spent patching someone up. Let’s get you home, hm?”
Alec nods, too tired now to argue that he needs to get back to the Institute. He’ll call Jace. At the very least, he can hold things down until Alec can come in. Something pings, then, at the back of Alec’s mind as they head for the portal, and he pushes through the fog and the pain to reach for it.
Oh. Right. Christmas. It has just turned into Christmas Day, hasn’t it? Nephilim don’t really go in for mundane holidays, but half of the Downworld were mundane at one point in time. It’s not a surprise that this time of year is more of a big deal for them nor that Magnus celebrates it, either.
“Hey Magnus?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Merry Christmas.”
The arm around his waist tightens a fraction, and Alec can hear the smile in Magnus’s voice when he answers, “Merry Christmas, Alexander.”
Chapter 2:
II.
The Hunter’s Moon is decked out for the holidays, red bows and garland along the bar top and multi-colored lights wrapped around the support columns. A large decorated tree stands tall in the corner by the jukebox, shedding pine needles and glitter onto the dingy floor. The place smells like stale beer and a little of wet dog on a good day, but there’s now an added scent of evergreen. Alec can’t decide whether it’s an improvement or not.
Cheery Christmas music plays over the sound system, some smooth voice singing about how cold it is outside. Maia’s got felt reindeer antlers sprouting from the thick curls of her hair, and the attached bells jingle every so often when she moves her head as she stands pouring a couple pints of beer at the tap.
Alec leans against the bar, one boot propped up on the bottom rung of a stool, and his eyes drift over Magnus’s profile as he waits for him to finish catching up with Maia.
There’s the shimmer of melted snow still glistening on his eyelashes, scattered like diamonds in the black of his hair. Gold eyeliner catches the light, sparkling as he tilts his head back in a damn near giggle, and Alec can’t help the smile that spreads across his own face in helpless response.
It hits him at random times just how lucky he is to have this man in his life, how different it could have been if they hadn’t met.
He catches sight of the mark he’d left on his throat the night before. It’s hidden well enough below the collar of Magnus’s shirt, but the long line of his neck as he laughs has it peeking out.
Gone are the soft, warm emotions to be replaced with something hungrier that twists low in Alec’s chest.
He wants nothing more than to take Magnus home and get him back into their bed. His mind conjures up thoughts of last night without any prompting, the wide spread of his hand against Magnus’s ribcage, the squeeze and slide of his thighs around Alec’s waist, the arch of his body beneath him.
“You’re staring, big brother.”
Izzy’s voice in his ear has a teasing lilt to it. He can see her smile before he even turns his head to look at her. She’s dressed nice, hair up in some fancy style that she usually only reserves for when she’s going out. Over her shoulder, he can see Clary shaking snow off of her jacket by the door.
The place is getting more and more crowded by the minute. Alec had thought, foolishly, that this would be a fairly tame affair for the night before a major holiday, but when the Downworld decides on a party, the community steps up.
Clary reaches them, giving Alec a bright and slightly damp hello as she tucks herself against Izzy’s side, but Alec is only half paying attention.
Magnus starts to step away, pulled into another conversation with a Seelie Alec doesn’t recognize. It feels like his chest constricts in that moment, the slowly lengthening distance between them already too much. He reaches out, hand curling gently around Magnus’s wrist to pull him up short. His skin is soft and smooth beneath Alec’s fingertips, pulse beating a steady rhythm against his thumb. He rubs back and forth across it, waiting.
There’s curiosity in Magnus’s eyes when he turns, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a slightly confused smile, but he lets himself be reeled in. Alec’s fingers slip lower. He grips Magnus’s hand, bringing it up as he ducks his head to lightly brush his lips across the back of his knuckles.
Magnus bites at his bottom lip, smile growing a little wider at the gesture, and Alec’s heart skip-trips a beat at the sight.
“Alexander?”
The soft honey of his voice around his name is probably Alec’s favorite sound in the world.
“Don’t go too far.”
He presses a last kiss to the bare skin of Magnus’s ring finger before releasing him.
Soon.
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raybyanothername · 4 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Vala Mal Doran, Mentions Adria Additional Tags: Sentient Atlantis, Motherhood, Light Angst, Stargate Fic Exchange Summary:
Vala has a conversation with Atlantis about why she alone is able to communicate with the sentient city.
Written for @shiggityontherocks as part of the Stargate Fic Exchange, hosted by @brightclam. I specifically focused on the Vala character development prompt for this one! 
-.-.-
Vala ran a hand over the walls of Atalntis as she walked down one of the hallways, "You're not half bad for an Alteran City." A cold chill slid down her palm and Vala chuckled, "Lantean, my apologies." The wall beneath her palm warmed.
Three weeks ago Daniel had dragged Vala to the city floating in the bay. Well, dragged might not have been the best word. Daniel had been walking up the gangway of a jumper when General O'Neill had shoved her on after him.
"Someone's gotta look after the egg head," Jack had patted her on the shoulder, lips quirked up, "And better you than me."
Daniel's squawk of indignation had been met by the closing of the jumper door. Vala had been stuck here ever since, listening to Daniel argue incessantly with some man named Rodney about translations in some old database.
"Do any one of them realize you're listening in?" Vala looked up at the ceiling as the wall curved around a corner. She found herself staring at a doorway. It opened without her even noticing the panel beside it. "The colonel with the fluffy hair seemed quite protective of you."
The room around her lit up with a dance of light. Behind her the door slide closed. Orbs of light floated around her - a hologram or a projection of some sort most likely. Vala smiled at them.
"I see." Vala nodded, chuckling to herself, "I like to play things quite close to vest as well." The orbs bounced cheerfully around her head as Vala took steps further into the room. "That's what secrets are for after all."
The lights continued to dance, oscillating in and out, creating large arcs around Vala. She hummed slightly, a chipper tune that the orbs quickly adopted as their cadence.
One of the orbs paused in front of Vala. It was bright yellow, with a vibrant aura that stretched out twice the orb's own length. Vala wagged her finger at, "Now, now, I won't play favorites." All together, the orbs hummed. "Do you?"
Another hum, lighter and sharper. Vala's nose scrunched up and her brow lowered. The orbs paused.
"I mean, why do you communicate with me? Of all the people that've come here you must admit I make an odd choice." Vala quirked her head to side.
The orbs responded with a twitter as they continued their dance across the ceiling. They continued to hum, her own melody played back at her as Vala gaped at them.
"I can hardly be the first mother to come to Atlantis!" Vala shook her head violently and her hands rose to her hips. "No. I distinctly remember one of the, uh, oh what's their name… Athosians? She lives here *with* her child!"
No change came from the orbs as Vala gaped at them.
Vala stomped her foot, "And I hardly qualify!" Her voice broke and Vala clamped her mouth shut. The light in the room dimmed.
The orbs zoomed towards the center of the room, merging into one beam of light that stretched from floor to ceiling. Adria's face was projected out at her. Vala swallowed around a lump that formed in her throat.
"She wasn't really mine. Not really." Vala shook her head. A watery chuckle escaped her lips.
The image of Adria disappeared and the beam of light dimmed to a pale blue color.
Vala sighed, "Yes… Yes, I suppose she was quite similar to a Lantean. She was… well, she was essentially an Ori, and they were Alterans too yes? Like the Ancients Daniel says built you?"
A hum from the beam of light was the only warning before it widened, enclosing Vala in its glow. She gasped at the sudden warmth that encircled her, but shrugged it off to find herself standing in the gateroom. Sans gate.
"Uh…hello?" Vala took a step. The sound of her boot on the floor echoed off the walls. She cringed.
"Mother!" A little girl came running down the steps from the command room. Curly brown hair and golden eyes. Vala's stomach dropped at the sight of her.
The girl rushed into Vala's legs, arms wrapping tightly around her. Vala grit her teeth, "Please, stop."
"This is how you like to remember her, isn't it?" The girl's head dropped back and Vala found herself looking into soft blue eyes now. The girl frowned. "This is when she was most human yes? The most…questioning?"
Vala shrugged, "I don't know if she was ever close to human to be honest with you. The Ori corrupted her from the very start." Absently, Vala found herself stroking the soft curls of the false image of her daughter. She stopped, "If you wish to talk with me this way, I'd prefer you to take a different form."
"As you wish," the false Adria nodded her head as she took a step away. In a blink she was replaced with a very young boy. He had tan colored skin and dimples. "Is this acceptable?"
"Thank you, yes." Vala smiled and crouched down so she was now eye level with the avatar of Atalntis. "Is this someone else's child?"
The boy nodded, "The child of Teyla Emmagan." He giggled, "He's much too young to simulate properly, so we have extrapolated his likely appearance."
"Makes sense," Vala puckered his lips in thought and nodded, "But why do you desire an avatar? We were communicating just fine before weren't we?"
"We wished for you to see our true self," the boy gestured down at his body. "We could think of no other way to help you understand."
Vala pursed her lips, "I'm afraid I still don't." She sank lower, sitting on the ground with crossed legs. "Why don't you try to explain anyway, and…and I'll follow as best I can?"
The child quickly scampered into her lap, curling up like a cat ready for a nap. "We can only talk to those designated as Mother in our system. You are the first to come in many centuries who carries the appropriate sequence."
"Ah…" Vala slid her hands through the avatar's short hair. The action illicited a sound not unlike a mewling noise. She chewed on her bottom lip as she consider the explanation, "Oh!" Her hand froze, "I carried Adria. Her Ori dna? That made her Alteran, that's the key isn't it?"
A smile spread across the child's lips and he nodded. "Yes."
"So… I have a different marker in my blood than the others, just like that Ancient gene that Daniel was going on about?" Vala's lip quirked up. "That's quite specific criteria."
The boy nuzzled against Vala's midsection, "Only mother's can be trusted with a child." Vala racked her fingers through his hair again.
"And you are the child of the Lanteans."
Pale blue eyes looked up at her, head tilted at an odd angle. It was a quizzical expression focused up at her, "Just as you were the Ori's mother."
Vala chuckled, swiped at her eyes. "Yes. I suppose. I'd much prefer it in…in a different situation, maybe."
"Do you not already have one?" Again, he nuzzled her midsection. Vala's hand froze. "Oh. You did not know."
"No." Vala shook her head. She swallowed down bile as it rose in her throat. "No. Definitely didn't know."
A small hand pressed against her abdomen, "They are very new. A little flicker." The boy sat up in her lap, "We know they will be well."
"Will they be, uh…" Vala closed her eyes, trailed off. She thought of all the things that had happened to her, all the…people, she had been.
"They hold no Alteran genetic markers," the boy supplied in a low voice. He frowned up at her, "But you are still afraid?"
Vala wrapped her arms around the boy, hugging this avatar of a city close. A warmth wrapped around her in turn. "If you can trust me as a mother, perhaps I can try to as well."
"We know you will succeed." The warmth spread wider and when Vala opened her eyes she found herself in an empty room. Alone. The glow of a nearby light intensified as she walked out. Almost alone.
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lvehui · 4 years
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WHEN THE MOON MET THE SUN | JIHAN, CHAPTER FIVE
3:38 pm
Joshua notices that Jeonghan's hands are gorgeous and holdable, but he doesn't say those thoughts out loud. Instead, he simply watches Jeonghan pour a shit ton of creamer into his coffee and swirl it around with a faint smile.
"Hi babes, I got a triple stack of Belgium waffles here," a voice announces. Joshua turns to see that it's just the waiter, a tangerine-haired guy with chubby cheeks in a 50's diner costume.
Jeonghan waves his hand and pipes up, "Ooh! That's me!"
The hot plate is set down in front of Jeonghan, who sweetly thanks the waiter before they leave. He wastes no time, stabbing a bright red strawberry and stuffing it into his mouth with enthusiasm. Even the way he eats is cute, he thinks.
(Joshua can't say that either.)
"You don't want anything to eat?" Jeonghan questions, slight concern in his voice, after washing down a bite of his crispy waffles with a long sip of coffee.
"Um... no," Joshua answers. "Not really."
Just then, his stomach lets out a little rumble, equivalent to a baby lion roar, which gets Jeonghan's attention. "Liar!" Jeonghan dramatically gasps. "You are so hungry."
Joshua shrugs again. It seems to be the only thing he's capable of doing, besides looking like a complete idiot. "I... I didn't eat breakfast," he confirms, reminiscing how he woke up late and sprinted to work, not wanting to be late. The irony is, though, that he's skipping work anyways--- something that Joshua had not predicted.
He also doesn't predict Jeonghan slicing up the waffles, pouring syrup on it, and sliding his plate to the middle of the table, so that it's evenly between the two men. "There," Jeonghan says as if to say that his job is done.
"What are you doing?"
"Sharing," Jeonghan replies. He tilts his head and nonchalantly chews on some of his Belgium waffles, before pointing the prongs of a fork towards Joshua. "Because sharing is caring and I don't want to you die of starvation, Shua."
Then he goes back to eating, not even giving Joshua a chance to decline his offer. Joshua has a feeling that if he tries to, Jeonghan will be upset with him, so he gingerly takes a fork and takes a stab of his own into the bite-sized fluff. When he puts it into his mouth and chews, he's met with an airy, sweet texture tinged with a touch of ripe spring strawberries.
"This is..." Joshua swallows. "Good."
Jeonghan smiles and excitedly rambles, "It is! And can you believe that there's so much more food that's just as delicious?" He takes another bite. "Like, I want to try every food known to mankind."
A soft chuckle comes out of Joshua's mouth naturally. "How will you do that?"
Jeonghan cheerfully shrugs. "Maybe I'll go on another adventure, visit another country," he playfully muses, adding, "I've always wanted to see the Colleseum in Rome."
"The Colleseum isn't a kind of food," Joshua says, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, but its a place that I'd like to go," Jeonghan responds, turning to look out the window, and for a moment, he's in a dreamy-eyed state.
Silence floats through the air until Joshua asks, "Out of curiosity... why did you come here?"
Joshua feels idiotic as soon as he says it, but Jeonghan simply snaps out of a trance and turns back to him. Moving his lips as he submerges himself into his thoughts, Jeonghan finally tells Joshua with a chuckle, "No particular reason. I wanted to, so I did."
"For fun?"
"For fun," Jeonghan says. "I just took a dart, randomly threw it at the world map, and went wherever the damned thing landed, ya know?"
Joshua didn't know--- he didn't make decisions like that, randomly, coincidentally. He would say that Jeonghan was the kind of guy to go where the stars told him to go, but that answer didn't fit him. Jeonghan was the kind of guy who didn't follow a star, who didn't wait for a constellation to appear. He just went where his heart took him--- and somehow it landed in downtown Los Angeles.
But for some reason, Joshua senses that there's more to Jeonghan's story. He wants to know what the rest of that story is, but he doesn't push the man.
So he just nods, before looking at Jeonghan's hands again.
If Jeonghan's hand appeared out of nowhere, out of thin air, Joshua doesn't think that he would give it much thought. He wouldn't wonder where it came from.
He'd just grasp it, take it, and follow it like the North Star.
**✿❀ ❀✿**
Once again, they're out on the sidewalk again. Jeonghan is ahead of him, but he twirls around here and there, walking backward to face Joshua, who follows with a fond look on his face.
"Jeonghan," Joshua randomly says. His voice is soft but audible if such a combination exists. Jeonghan turns around again, radiant as ever, Joshua thinks. That's a big chunk of his thoughts right now.
Jeonghan continues to walk backward, sidestepping a passerby. "Hm?"
Joshua picks up the pace and gets closer to Jeonghan, unknowingly. "Do you like music?"
"Do I?" Jeonghan repeats, his face lighting up, "That's like asking if I like to eat."
"Do you?"
"Passionately," Jeonghan cheekily responds, although Joshua has a feeling that Jeonghan's answer could go for anything the man does.
Joshua turns his head away from Jeonghan, quite shyly. "Then... let's go."
Jeonghan laughs, "Go where?"
"There's this store... full of records, and um, well, if you want to..." Joshua mumbles, his voice going from confident to semi-confident to confident again. "We can go?"
"Go to this store?"
Joshua nods fast. "Y-yeah, but like, your answer doesn't have to be yes. It can be no---"
"Let's bounce!" Jeonghan exclaims, bouncing on his toes in excitement. His eyes are sparkling. "I was starting to wonder where we'd go next, you know..."
And so to Mono Records they go, Jeonghan entering the shop like a little kid. The walls are covered in coffee-stained black and white newspapers, punk rock posters, and signatures, some famous, some casual vandalism. Throughout the store, there are shelves and shelves of thin, colorful vinyl records, ranging from Smokey Robinson to ABBA.
Joshua thoughtfully flips through the vinyl records, not looking for any particular one, simply looking. The atmosphere is neither cold nor warm, but fresh to him as he does so. He remembers when some of these songs would come on the radio, and he'd jam to in his room like a maniac. His mother would come upstairs and into the room, asking him to chill out with the stomping--- so he'd shimmy.
"Shua!" Jeonghan calls. When Joshua locates the man, he's across the store, jumping up and down so that Joshua can see him behind the shelves. "Come! Here! I! Wanna! Show! You! Some! Thing!"
The brown-haired man fixes his appearance before he goes to Jeonghan, adjusting his plaid shirt collar and straightening out his worn-out aviator jacket. (A terrible combination, he knows, but he's never really had a sense of style.) When he's done, he makes his way to Jeonghan, who has a vinyl in his hand.
"Can we play this?" Jeonghan says, waving the vinyl in Joshua's face. "Can weee?"
Joshua doesn't answer and instead tries to look at the cover, but it keeps moving in and out of focus thanks to Jeonghan. "...out loud?"
Jeonghan nods and replies, "No, I just want to stare at this cute cover--- of course, I want to listen to it out loud, Shua! What's a record store without a record playing?"
The soft Frank Sinatra in the background says otherwise. "There is a record playing---"
"Okay well this song, they need to play THIS song!"
Next thing Joshua knows, the particular vinyl is being shoved into his hands and his back is being pushed to who knows where. The guy at the cash register takes a drag of his cigarette before looking at Joshua with tired eyes, "You." Joshua turns his head. "I'm talking to you. The botched Bohunk," the guy says, annoyed.
"Yeah?" Joshua says, nervously.
"What do you need?" the other guy bluntly asks, voice deep.
Joshua suddenly remembers why he's standing there. He coughs. Awkwardly. "Uh, can you... play this please?"
The man--- Wonwoo, his nametag says--- slides out from behind the counter and takes the record from Joshua's hand, then walks off to the record player nearby. He pulls up the scratcher and removes Frank Sinatra and replaces it with the vinyl Joshua had been holding. Then he puts the scratcher back on and walks off, while Joshua finds himself listening to a familiar drum sequence.
Then the sound of an electric keyboard or some sort of Marimba.
We're talking away... I don't what, what to say...
"Shua, it's playing!" he hears from a familiar voice. Jeonghan is already rocking his head and the chorus hasn't even come in yet.
I'm to say that I'll say it anyway... today's another day to find you, shying away...
"'I'll be coming for your love, okay?'" Jeonghan sings, in his poor English, but lively and upbeat nonetheless. Honestly, it's endearing, the way Jeonghan points to Joshua as if he's cueing him. By this time, he's already broken out to a full dance, his limbs flying wildly around without a care in the world, with Joshua just watching him.
Joshua is feeling the second-hand embarrassment, but he can't fight the laughter spilling out of his mouth. He composes himself for a moment--- something he struggles to do--- but lets go once the chorus hits him.
"Take... on... me..." Joshua begins to sing, in a low voice, gradually becoming a bit louder as each second goes by until he's fully into the song.
Their fists jut out into the air as they go, "Take! On! Me!"
Take... me... on...
"Take! On! Me!"
And it's as if the Universe meant to slow time down, just for Joshua, who watches as Jeonghan's hair slowly flips through the air, every movement like a moving Polaroid, the sun shining upon him--- no, him shining upon the world--- like he was meant to.
"I'll... be... gone..." Jeonghan sings, and the rest fades into background noise.
In a day... Or two...
Maybe the Universe meant to give him a sign.
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