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five-rivers · 3 years

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Oooh, I just saw the big about prompts!

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

(Can be inspiration or an actual quote; do what ya want! :P)

The world ended on a Saturday, and it wasn’t Danny’s fault. Even if that Saturday happened to be his sixteenth birthday.

Okay, maybe that was a bit overdramatic. But, honestly, neither he nor anyone else he’d ever spoken to knew why or how things had turned out this way. Just that, one morning, reality shook, shuddered, and took a few steps to the left.

Humanity woke to green-streaked skies, a rainbow sun, and a lot more universe than they were used to. So did ghosts.

This was a problem. It might even be deemed the problem. Humans and ghosts didn’t exactly get along, and even when neither the ghosts nor the humans involved particularly wanted to fight, the new laws of nature and the few who did want to fight tended to ruin things for everyone else. (Cough, GIW, cough, Walker, cough.)

Hence the end of the world. Or, at least, most large-scale governments.

It could have been worse.

Amity Park stopped being a city that day, fragmented with Ghost Zone wilderness, landscape and spatial dimensions shattered in a spiderweb centered on Fentonworks, the portal a wellspring of wild power and unpredictable translocations. Danny had worried that the portal had been the cause of the whole thing, but Amity Park was far from the only place with similar issues (look at New York), and Danny eventually was able to accept that not every bad ghost-related thing that happened was on him.

(Probably.)

Honestly, once everything calmed down a bit, the new world was much more comfortable, physically and mentally, for Danny to live in. Which was weird, but made sense. The new world was split between human and ghost, just like him. It was everyone else who was uncomfortable, now.

Which, again, he felt guilty about, but, yeah. He couldn’t do anything about that, so feeling guilty was counterintuitive. Thank you, tiny Jazz in his head.

It was Saturday again. Time for the market fair.

“Mom and Dad are already out?” asked Danny, leaning over the banister.

“Yeah,” said Jazz, not looking up from her work transcribing an old ghost text into something more palatable to human eyes. She adjusted her green lenses to sit closer to her eyes. “An hour or two ago. Some guys from Chicago came in last night, apparently, and they wanted to get a head start.”

“Okay,” said Danny. “I’m going, too. You want anything?”

“Nope. I’d be going myself if I did,” said Jazz.

“You sure? Nothing for dinner?”

“Nope, I’m all set.”

“Cool,” said Danny, padding towards the door. He pulled his nice, dark coat, the one he’d gotten from Dora, off the hook, and shrugged into it, pulling up the hood.

“No shoes today?” asked Jazz, who had finally looked up.

“Eh,” said Danny. “I guess not. Doesn’t really feel like a shoe kind of day.” He flexed his toes.

“Well, avoid blackberries, then,” said Jazz.

“They should avoid me,” joked Danny. “Good luck with that book!”

“Thanks,” said Jazz, waving as Danny left.

Fentonworks was the same tall, brick-and-UFO building as it had always been, but now it stood alone on top of a small hill rising from a distinctly purple forest. The dark grass waved back and forth like the tentacles of a sea anemone. Bright green portal streaks, cracks in reality, stood out against the foliage, along with a few other buildings that had once belonged to the Fentons’ neighborhood. The sun was blue today, but Danny predicted it would be green by nightfall.

Danny walked down the path, the dirt on it declining to adhere to Danny’s feet. He hummed, quietly, a tune he half-remembered from before the apocalypse. He would not be walking all the way to the market fair, it was too far. His parents had taken the Speeder.

Danny, on the other hand, had a shortcut.

He reached one of the portal-fractures and passed through to a part of the forest where the trees whispered to one another. He took a moment to reorient himself, and continued to the next portal fracture.

As far as he knew, he was the only person who could reliably travel like this. He could have flown, but the market fair was busy, and he preferred to maintain his peaceful life. Phantom was still a celebrity in Amity Park. Even more so now, than before, as ghosts were no longer shot on sight.

Some ghosts even came to Amity Park’s market fair.

He walked through a wider-than-usual fracture which deposited him just outside the main fragment of Amity Park, near the erstwhile mall. The mall and its attached parking lot being the place the market fair took place.

It was busy. There were trucks stamped with the seal of Illinois parked on the edges, presumably belonging to the delegation from Chicago. There seemed to be more ghosts than usual as well, enough of them to make Danny shiver. Had they come from Chicago, or was it just a coincidence? If they had, that would be nice. Chicago had a lot of local influence, and was one of the places that was still trying to hold together something like a national government. If they accepted ghosts, others would follow more readily.

Peace between the two worlds in places other than Amity Park would be very nice.

Danny wandered down the paths of the market fair, not in any particular hurry to get to his parents’ booth. He was always more interested in the other things at the fair. Even if he rarely bought anything.

People seemed to be mostly moving in one direction. No, they were being drawn in one direction, with people tugging their companions onward. Danny, not having anything better to do, went with the flow.

Which led back to where the Chicago delegation was set up. Several people were standing in front of the trucks, arguing.

“How can you lose an entire bevy of ghosts?” demanded the man who appeared to be in charge.

The target of his ire merely shrugged.

“Can’t lose people like that, bub!” shouted someone from the crowd. There was a titter of laughter.

“Didn’t you have a big, fancy announcement, fed?”

More laughter.

“Yeah, what did you want to say?” This voice had an echo to it, and the the man looked extremely aggrieved.

Nevertheless, he took a deep breath. “We were led to believe,” he said, cheek jumping, “by certain ghosts, that there was a way to negotiate with the ghosts and... reverse this nonsense.”

Wow. So, Chicago got scammed. That could have repercussions. Danny hoped Amity Park wouldn’t see too much of the fallout.

“Wouldn’t you jump on any chance to stop this?” demanded the man in response to the jeers, gesturing at the sky and its pulsing bands of light.

“Tell us a better story!” shouted Ember, who had struck up a much more cordial relationship with Amity Park after the apocalypse. “One that we’ll remember!”

The man turned away, throwing his hands in the air. “Go find them!” he shouted, presumably to his subordinates.

The crowd broke up.

Danny was curious. It was one of his defining characteristics, both as a human and as a ghost. He followed one of the Chicagoans as they walked into the market turning this way and that.

“So,” he said, “what story was your boss fed?”

The woman jumped and looked down at him, disconcerted. (Yes, he was short. That wasn’t his fault. Except that it probably was, via the portal accident.)

The woman sighed. “Why not, it’ll be out before too long. We were told that the rightful king of ghosts was in hiding here, or something stupid like that. I don’t think they ever said he could fix the world, even. Only that he could be negotiated with.” She kicked the ground. “This is so stupid. There’s no ghost king. This is never going to get fixed.”

“It’s not so bad, is it?” asked Danny.

“How old even were you when it happened. Ten?” asked the woman.

“Excuse me, I was sixteen,” said Danny, crossing his arms.

“That’s cute,” said the woman, dragging her hand down her face. “You’re like thirteen, tops. Not nineteen. Jesus. Go bother someone else, kid.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, you aren’t wrong that there’s no ghost king. Last guy who called himself that got beaten up and locked in a sarcophagus forever.”

Then, just to mess with her, because she’d been rude, Danny turned invisible and left before she turned around.

Now... He should probably try to warn people about the scam artist ghosts. Or would they know from the other people watching?

Danny flicked back into visibility and continued perusing the various stalls, making small talk with the owners, bringing up the Chicagoans when it was appropriate.

He was passing by the covered entrance of the mall, one of the most crowded spots in the market fair, when his ghost sense went off, indicating an unfamiliar ghost was nearby. He scanned the crowd for the ghost. He didn’t have to look very hard. Strange ghosts tended to draw eyes, even in Amity Park.

Especially ones that looked like this. Inhumanly tall, cloaked, and moving smoothly. Glimpses under their hoods showed faces riddled with decay- or at least the appearance of decay. The three of them held instruments. Flute, drum, and summoning bell.

Danny stood to the side to let them pass. After all, they weren’t doing anything bad as far as he could see.

They did not. Instead, they stopped in front of Danny.�� Typical.

Then they started playing their instruments. And kneeling.

Aaaand the crowd was getting bigger. There was the person from Chicago, too. Could he escape without turning invisible with all this attention on him?

Probably not without showcasing his ghost powers. There were people who knew him in this crowd. Like Paulina. And Star.

“Um,” said Danny. “Hi?”

The leading ghost looked up as the sun’s light turned emerald green.

“Blessings of rot and petrichor, my prince. May you have a home in the dark, and may the distant stars you reach for never fade.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw the Chicagoan’s jaw drop.

“I think you might have the wrong guy,” said Danny. “I’m not anyone’s prince.”

The ghost grinned, sharp and white. “We came to give our blessings, my prince. You do not need to accept them for them to exist. We offer, also, our service and our hope in this new world that you are so suited for.”

Yeah. This was going to be a problem.

#danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill

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bondsmagii · 3 years

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My wife writes online recipes.

It’s just a little hobby of hers. I don’t really get it myself. She’s a great cook, and she gets a lot of great comments on her recipes – she’s one of those people who’s just good at teaching, you know, makes everything super simple and easy to follow – but she tends to write absolute essays at the top of all her recipes. Backstory, where she got the recipe from, how she adapted it over the years. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just a lot of words, and I’m not a chef. I don’t know what she means by half of it. I look at the pictures, though. She’s a great food photographer as well. Manages to make the food look great – no shininess there, no congealing. It’s a neat little page, and she enjoys doing it, so what’s the harm?

Only thing is, she always stays up really late to update it. There’s no reason why she does this, that I can see. When I’ve asked, she just tells me she was busy during the day and had no time, and I believed her for a while. Then I began to notice that it didn’t matter how busy she was – she’d always wait until one, maybe two in the morning. Then I’d hear her downstairs, tapping away on the keyboard. Once, she even got up to do it. Like, out of bed. I was too tired to ask at the time, but during breakfast she just gave me a blank look and told me I must have been dreaming. We got into a bit of an argument about it, actually. I was so sure I hadn’t been, but… now I’m not as sure. I’ve definitely seen her down there, though. Late at night, when she thinks I’m asleep. I’ve stood at the top of the stairs, where I can just make her out on the couch. She writes with such grim concentration. She doesn’t look much like she’s enjoying it at the time. Looks like she hates it, if I’m honest. Then I’ll catch her reading it back during the day, and she’s smiling again. Perhaps the writing process, I don’t know.

One day I got kind of curious. That night, at about four in the morning, I woke up to my wife getting quietly out of bed and tiptoeing downstairs. Sure enough, soon I heard her fingers going over that keyboard at a rapid pace, like something had driven her out of bed and had her in a frenzy. I was so curious as to what simply couldn’t wait until morning. I thought about asking her over breakfast again, but I didn’t want a repeat of last time. Instead I went back to sleep, and when I woke up she was in the shower like she was every morning, and I pulled up her recipe site on my phone.

The latest recipe – the one she had posted that morning – started off normal. A greeting, a quick update about her life. The first thing that struck me as odd was in the second paragraph. Only a little thing, but still. She said that she was up so late typing the recipe because she hadn’t been able to sleep, but that was a lie. She had been sleeping soundly when I’d come to bed, and when I got up a few hours later to get a drink. Why would she lie about something like that?

More normal paragraphs followed. She talked about where she had picked the recipe up, about barbeques when she had been a little girl. There was a real poetry to how she described those late summer afternoons, the lazy drone of the bees, the golden air. It was beautiful, but I wondered just how many people actually read all of this stuff, and how many people scrolled rapidly down to the recipe. The thought caused a pang of sympathy to go through me. She worked so hard on these introductions, and the thought of nobody reading them made me feel heavy. Then I saw it. About five lines in, at the seventh large paragraph.

Now everyone has stopped reading, here’s what you really need to know.

I sat up a little straighter.

This recipe has a slightly stronger sauce, because the meat wasn’t as fresh as I would like. If you have fresher meat, you’ll probably want to reduce the ingredients by half, or if you don’t mind strong flavours, adjust to taste.

I sank back a little, disappointed. What had I expected to find, really? The water in the shower changed in pitch as my wife moved around under the jet, and I found myself tuned in, listening for the creak that would let me know she was stepping out of the tub. For some reason, I did not want to be caught doing this.

I caught this one on Friday night. Friday evenings are good, because a lot of people go out on the trails. They take some of the longer ones, because they have the next day off. Unfortunately when I went to check the snares, a bunch of teenagers were using the parking lot to goof around and drink, so I had to wait hours before I could collect the catch. You’ve read about how my snares are designed in the Long Pulled Pork and Slaw recipe, so you can see my problem here, lol! The snare worked perfectly, but obviously the meat had been dead for a few hours by the time I had it up and out of there, and I’m a sticker for getting to it as quickly as possible.

Here's the thing. My wife is not a hunter. She has no problem with eating meat, and she can cook up a mean steak and pull pork better than any restaurant I’ve ever been to, but she’s never had any interest in catching the animals she cooks herself. She goes to local places for the meat, likes to source it farm to fork, but snares? She’s never mentioned snares once. She doesn’t own any hunting rifles. She’s never been hunting in her life. I have no idea what she’s talking about. I wonder, briefly, if she’s delusional – some highly specific delusion from a condition that somehow impacts no other part of her life – and then I scroll up slightly and click the link to the pork and slaw.

This time the extra information is hidden in the fifteenth paragraph, in the middle of a long-winded but beautifully written story about catching fireflies with her little sister.

They showed me how to make the snares when I was nineteen years old. It’s fairly time-consuming to set up, but well worth it! If you’re interested please don’t hesitate to email me for more information, but it’s my little secret so I don’t want it right out in the open ;) The important thing to know is that the snares are quick and humane, and designed to kill the catch immediately. This is why it’s super important to check them regularly! The longer the catch is dead, the more the taste of the meat is affected – and this meat needs so much work to begin with in order to make it palatable. You don’t want to give yourself extra work! (And for those of you wondering about the obvious, don’t. They will take care of the rest of the body. This is the payment for using their techniques, and besides, we couldn’t eat that much anyway! My husband and I barely make a dent in all the food I have stored away in the freezer. Just take the cut you want, and leave the rest to them.)

The shower was still going strong, and I got to my feet before I could think too much about it. I was starting to realise I might have made a mistake, leaving all the cooking to my wife. She loves it – cooking is her real passion in life – and I’m abysmal at it, so it makes sense. Having said that, I should have probably taken more of an interest in what it was, exactly, that she was cooking.

There’s a huge box freezer in our garage. I never look in it. She doesn’t like me to, anyway. She has everything arranged and knows where it is, and she likes to be able to run out and grab something without wasting too much time. It felt almost dishonest to crack the lid and peer in – like I was snooping in her diary. All I can see are bags upon bags of frozen meat, but that’s not unusual. She stocks up sometimes. You can never be too careful. Like I said, I’m no chef, so I can’t make heads nor tails of it. It’s dark meat, red, and I mean, it’s really dark. Beef, maybe. Venison. Is she out there catching deer in snares? If so, why would she have to wait until the teenagers had gone to bring it out? It’s not illegal to hunt deer around here – not at this time of the year. And why wouldn’t she mention it to me at all?

Cautiously, I move a few of the packages. My hand closes around a strangely shaped one and I pull it out so I can see better. My heart skips a beat before I realise it’s probably just for her stock. She makes stock out of bones, you see, so it’s not unusual to see a whole shin bone in the freezer.

Except this shin bone is long and thick. It doesn’t look like any kind of shin bone I’d expect from an animal. Looking at it, it’s about the length of mine.

You know, I never could quite place the flavour of the steaks she’s been serving me.

I swallow hard. I slide the shin bone back into its place. I realise, too late, that the gurgle of the pipes stopped long ago. I realise, also too late, that I left my phone on the bed.

I think I hear the garage door creak.

#creeptastic #creepypasta #my creepypasta #writing #my writing #short story #fiction #been a while since i wrote a good old creepypasta huh

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your erudite and literary posts about James Bond in your blog very much. Your most recent post about Connery as best cinematic Bond and Dalton as the best literary Bond was brilliant. Although the PC brigade have been inching towards making Bond a woman or even non-white, Ian Fleming’s legacy of a suave but cold hearted English gentleman spy hasn’t been completely trashed. As someone familiar with Fleming literary lore can you also tell me where was James Bond educated? Was it Oxford or Cambridge? I was having a discussion over Zoom with friends and the Oxonians like myself thought it was Oxford because in Casino Royale with Daniel Craig it’s made very plain it was Oxford. Your thoughts?

I appreciate your kind words about my posts on James Bond and his creator Ian Fleming. It’s very hard to ignore the cinematic James Bond because he is very much an icon of our modern culture that needs no translation to transcend across cultures. Alongside Sherlock Holmes, another British literary and cinematic export, the name alone speak for itself.

James Bond appeals to both genders very well.

For the men, Bond dresses well and lives in a care free way. He is both ferociously intelligent and resourceful to get out of any tight corner. He drives incredible cars (from the incredibly stylish Aston Martin DB5 to the incredibly awful AMC Hornet) and uses awesome technology (he is the archetypal boy with toys). He's not afraid to get down in the dirt to fight or engage in lethal gun-play and spectacular car chases. He sleeps with beautiful women, regardless how strong and independent they are (or even lesbian if we’re being honest about Pussy Galore).

For us ladies, while he's not averse to action, he's also a cultured gentleman with suave and sophisticated manners. He's also a generally pretty good looking guy. In many ways, he's a conventional male ideal. So while his conventional good looks and manners aren't for everyone, they hit right the sweet spot of what women like. For everyone, he's a spy! Not at a grey real world nondescript spy, but a cool spy fighting larger than life bad guys whose bland sartorial choices scream mad super villain. It's a very black and white world that James Bond lives in. These bad guys truly are villainous in the desire to re-order humanity, and we need a debonair British MI6 agent to save us from these mad men who want to harm us by laying waste to a bonkers Armageddon.

When all is said and done I think that what makes James Bond so iconic across gender and generations is what Raymond Chandler wrote back in 1959, “every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.

That sounds about right. Men want to be him, women want to be with him.

I know my first introduction to James Bond was through my grandfather on my Anglo-Scots father’s side who was a dashing gentleman in his day with a long rumoured hush hush work for Her Majesty’s government firmly shoved under the carpet to avoid further discussion that he - being self-effacing and humble - would find embarrassing that would paint him in any heroic light. Years later he had bought his Bahamas beach pile in Harbour Island out in the Caribbean for the family to rest up from cold winters in Britain. Amongst his immense stack of books dotted around the place were (and still are) first editions of Flemings novels which a few were signed by the author as he on occasion met Ian Fleming when he would sail over to Jamaica (they were also OEs which helped). We were not allowed to touch these but instead picked up the dog earred paperbacks that still retained their 60s musty smell.

On my teen sojourns there I would spend time along with my siblings just reading anything we could find to take to the beach or lounge around in a hammock or a chaise longue. That’s how I came to read the Fleming books - really out of necessity to avoid boredom on a beach (which isn’t really my thing as I prefer the rugged outdoors). But I was pleasantly surprised how well written the books were and I actually enjoyed the stories; it was a refreshing change from the more heavy literary tomes I was trying hard to wade through. As for the Bond films, I watched them on film nights at boarding school; I remember having a school girl crush on Connery, Dalton, and Brosnan.

There are many reasons for the successful longevity of James Bond in popular culture and literature but perhaps one of the most pertinent to our discussion is that James Bond is actually a blank slate and therefore malleable as a character and so he can capture the current zeitgeist in time.

This ability of the film to adapt to different generations while remaining relevant is an important factor for its longevity. For example, the early James Bond films were unashamedly sexist with characters using women as objects and discarding them. In the most recent James Bond films, certainly starting with Timothy Dalton, there is a subtle change in attitude with a few chauvinist attitudes.

James Bond today is more serious, seduces fewer women, and is more respectful towards women in his life, including his boss. This shows how the film changes concerning the rise of feminism in the West. For example, Miss Moneypenny used to be a minor character in the very first James Bond films. Today, she is more formidable and doesn’t tolerate sexist remarks.

Perhaps it is precisely because of this blank slate malleability that has allowed different actors that have been cast to play James Bond their own way - rather than get a straight like for like Scottish sounding actor to replacing Connery for example the film producers went across to Moore via Lazenby for example - and letting each actor imbue the super spy with different moods. They each added their own colour from the same broad palate to create different tones. However, each of these characters maintained the essential character that defines James Bond. The actors have broadly stayed true to the inherent mix of character and class associated with James Bond.

For this reason I have some empathy towards your concern that Bond would be held hostage to the current zeitgeist of white washing or genderising everything so as to avoid being a victim of cancel culture. But it’s only empathy because I feel there is a danger of misunderstanding just who James Bond is and what he represents.

What do I mean by this?

I mentioned James Bond is a malleable character to the point he’s presented as a blank slate. This is ‘literally’ true - certainly as far as the books go. Ian Fleming doesn’t tell us much about Bond other than his appearance in his books. Indeed - as I mentioned in my past blog post on Connery as the best Bond - Fleming wasn’t convinced by Connery as Bond. He was reported to have said, ‘I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stuntman’ and even dismissed Connery as “that fucking truck driver”. Fleming has good reason to rage. His Bond as written in the books was someone like him.

Like Fleming, Bond was an Eton educated Englishman; an officer and a (rogue) gentleman who was a lieutenant-commander in Naval Intelligence. As Connery began to wow and win over Fleming as Bond, Fleming had a change of heart. Fleming in his later Bond books re-wrote a half-Scottish ancestry for Bond as a tribute to Connery’s portrayal. Bond’s Scottish father was a Royal Navy captain and later an arms dealer, Andrew Bond from Glencoe; and his mother, Monique Delacroix, was Swiss from an industrial family. Bond himself was born in Zurich. Bond isn’t English at all but half-Scots and half-Swiss according to literary canon.

So I mention this because the question who can play James Bond is not as straight forward as it might seem.

But clearly we now have a canon of work, both cinematically and in the literature, where we have base line of who Bond is - or what audiences could possibly suspend their disbelief and go with what is presented to them as James Bond.

I do vaguely remember the hullabaloo and hand wringing around Daniel Craig playing Bond because he didn’t conform to the traditional tall, dark, and handsome trope of James Bond super suave spy. People couldn’t get past his blond hair. Some still can’t. But in my humble opinion he has been an outstanding James Bond and has reimagined Bond in a fresh and exciting way. Craig is in fact mining the Fleming books for his characterisation of Bond as a suave, gritty, humourless killer of the books. Dalton got there before him but that’s a moot point. To our current generation Craig has modernised Bond and dusted 007 down from being a relic of the Cold War to being a relevant 21st Century super spy.

Can anyone play James Bond OO7? Yes and no. It’s arguing that two different things are one and the same. They are not. James Bond is separate from OO7.

Can a woman play Jane Bond or a black woman or non-white man play Black Bond? Respectfully, no. That’s not who James Bond is.

James Bond is a flesh and blood character with a specific genealogical history - whether in the books or on the screen. This Bond has literary back story that is canon and makes him who he is. Bond does transcend time - he can’t be 38 years old for over 75 years in the real world - but at the same time his character only makes sense when rooted in a specific historic context we know existed (and still exists) and not some wishy washy make believe fantasy of British society. He’s an Old Etonian and therefore an upper middle class male product of the British establishment that is identifiable in a very British cultural context.

Jane Bond would have to have gone to Cheltenham Ladies College, Benneden, or Roedean I suppose if we are talking about equivalence - but such girls’ boarding schools were not the breeding ground for future spies (more likely they married them or became trusted secretaries in the intelligence services as well as flower arranging in their Anglican parish church).

I believe they are letting in black pupils on bursaries at Eton these days to be more inclusive but again it’s an an exception not the rule and Eton doesn’t even get public credit for the inclusive work they try to do because it’s not well known.

Moreover we know Bond loses his Scottish-Swiss parents in a skiing accident. I don’t mean to sound racist but I ski a lot in Switzerland and I can say you don’t really find droves of non-white skiers on the slopes of Verbier or Zermatt. Of course there are a few but it’s the exception and not the norm. Again, I’m not trying to be racist but just point out some obvious things when it pertains to the credibility of character that underlines who Bond is. You pull one thread out of the literary biography and the danger is the rest of the tapestry will unravel.

Of course one could try and go for a Black Bond on screen and then hope there is a huge suspension of belief on the part of the audience. But I suspect it’s a bridge too far. It just doesn’t fit. Audiences around the world have an image of who Bond is - British at the very least but also male (damaged and flawed in many ways) and coming from a specific British social class background that serves as an entree to a closed world of English gentleman clubs, Savile Row, English sports cars, and the hushed corridors of Whitehall.

Any woke film maker with an ounce of creative vision and talent and one who is invested in this would be better off creating a new character entirely - with their own specific biography that is both believable and relatable. Can you imagine an American James Bond? What a ghastly thought. Or worse a Canadian one? Canadians are far too nice and far too apologetic to produce a cruel cold eyed killer. But look what clever film makers like Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones and even later Doug Liman did with Jason Bourne - both fantastic creations that are part of the cultural zeitgeist now.

Or look at Charlize Theron who plays a MI6/CIA/KGB triple agent in Atomic Blonde or Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa Faust in any of the Mission Impossible movies. I would eagerly watch any movies with these two badass women on the screen. All this talk about making Bond a woman or even coloured is just lazy thinking at best and at worst kow towing to the populist tides of PC brigade.

But I firmly believe one can have a female and a person of colour portraying 007. This is because James Bond and OO7 are two different things entirely. Many mistakenly believe 007 is Bond’s own code name and specific alias to him alone.

007 is a license to kill for a very specialised kind of intelligence officer. Bond has that privilege for as long as he serves at the service of Her Majesty’s pleasure. His 007 license can be revoked - and it has been in the past Bond films - and he’s back to being a just another desk jockey civil servant in Whitehall. So my point is OO7 is not sacred to Bond’s identity. Bond could continue to be Bond even if M took away his 007 license to kill.

The origins of the Double O title may date to Fleming's wartime service in Naval Intelligence. According to World War Two historian Damien Lewis in his book Churchill's Secret Warriors, agents of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) were given a “0” prefix when they became "zero-rated" upon completion of training in how to kill. As part of his role as assistant to the head of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral John Godfrey (himself the inspiration for M), Fleming acted as liaison to the SOE.

In the novel Moonraker it’s established that the section routinely has three agents concurrently; the film series, beginning with Thunderball, establishes the number of OO agents at a minimum of 9. Fleming himself only mentions five OO agents in all. According to Moonraker, James Bond is the most senior of three OO agents; the two others were OO8 and OO11. The three men share an office and a secretary named Loelia Ponsonby. Later novels feature two more OO agents; OO9 is mentioned in Thunderball and OO6 is mentioned in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Other authors have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents. While they presumably have been sent on dangerous missions as Bond has, little has been revealed about most of them. Several have been named, both by Fleming and other authors, along with passing references to their service records, which suggest that agents are largely recruited (as Bond was) from the British military's special forces.

Interestingly, In the novel You Only Live Twice, Bond was transferred into another branch and given the number 7777, suggesting there was no active agent 007 in that time; he is later reinstated as 007 in the novel The Man with the Golden Gun. As an aside, in Fleming's Moonraker, OO agents face mandatory retirement at 45 years old. However Sebastian Faulks's Devil May Care (an authorised Bond adventure from the Fleming estate and therefore arguably could be considered canon) features M giving Bond a choice of when to retire - which explains why Roger Moore (God bless) went past his sell by date.

In the films the OO section is a discrete area of MI6, whose agents report directly to M, and tend to be sent on special assignments and troubleshooting missions, often involving rogue agents (from Britain or other countries) or situations where an "ordinary" intelligence operation uncovers or reveals terrorist or criminal activity too sensitive to be dealt with using ordinary procedural or legal measures, and where the aforementioned discretionary "licence to kill" is deemed necessary or useful in rectifying the situation.

The World is Not Enough introduces a special insignia for the 00 Section. Bond's fellow OO agents appear receiving briefings in Thunderball and The World Is Not Enough. The latter film shows a woman in one of the 00 chairs. In Thunderball, there are nine chairs for the OO agents; Moneypenny says every 00 agent in Europe has been recalled, not every OO agent in the world. Behind the scenes photos of the film reveal that one of the agents in the chairs is female as well. As with the books, other writers have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents in the films and in other media.

In GoldenEye, 006 is an alias for Alec Trevelyan; as of 2019, Trevelyan is the only OO agent other than Bond to play a major role in an EON Productions film, with all other appearances either being brief or dialogue references only.

In Casino Royale with Daniel Craig’s first outing as Bond, we see in the introduction the tense exchange between Bond and Dryden, a section chief whom Bond has been sent to kill for selling secrets.

James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets. Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man Bond. If M was so sure I was bent...she'd have sent a Double-O. Benefits of being Section Chief...I would know of anyone being promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills...and it takes - James Bond: - two. (flashback of Bond fighting Dryden's contact in a bathroom.)

The OO is just a coveted position and nothing to do with who occupies it. Ito use a topical comparative example it’s like a football team in which a new star player would be given an ex-player’s shirt number e.g. Messi wears Number 10 for Argentina which is heavily identified with the late great Maradona. So conceivably there would be no problem having a woman or anyone else play 007. I think it would be an interesting creative choice to have a woman or someone else play OO7 and Bond is out of the service and yet he has to work together with this new OO7 - the creative tension would be a refreshing twist on the canon.

Your question about James Bond’s Oxford or Cambridge education is more easier to answer.

It really depends again which Bond one is talking about. The literary James Bond or the cinematic Bond.

In the Fleming books, James Bond’s didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge or any of the other great universities of Britain. In the books Bond’s education is not gone into much detail. We know he was raised overseas until he was orphaned at the age of 11 when his parents died in a mountaineering accident near Chamonix in the Alps. He is home schooled for a time by an aunt, Charmain Bond, in the English village of Pett Bottom before being packed off to boarding school at Eton around 12 years old. Bond doesn’t stay long as he gets expelled for playing around with a maid. He is then sent to his father’s boarding school in Scotland, Fettes College.

Bond is then briefly attends the University of Geneva - as Ian Fleming did - before being taught to ski in Kitzbühel. In 1941 Bond joins a branch of what was to become the Ministry of Defence and becomes a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, ending the war as a commander. Bond applies to M for a position within the "Secret Service", part of the HM Civil Service, and rises to the rank of principal officer. And that’s it.

In the cinematic Bond universe things get more complicated and even contentious as you alluded to in your question. It’s never made quite clear which of the two - Oxford or Cambridge - Bond attended because it depends on how much weight you attach to the lines being spoken in each of the films where it is raised.

In Tomorrow Never Dies, Bond is up at Oxford (New College to be exact since his Aston Martin DB5 was parked in the courtyard at the entrance). He is seen bedding a sexy Danish professor, Inga Bergstrom, to brush up on his Danish (to which Moneypenny on the phone retorts ‘You always were a cunning linguist’). But it’s definitely doesn’t mean Bond studied there as an undergraduate.

Casino Royale is the film many think yes, James Bond went to Oxford because it is mentioned by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) as she sizes up Daniel Craig’s Bond on the train. Here is the full quote as said by Vesper Lynd, “All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity - hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.”

The thing to note is that it’s Vesper Lynd taunting Bond and even then she takes a wide stab by saying ‘Oxford or wherever’ because she doesn’t really know and Bond doesn’t oblige her with an answer.

That whole scene struck me as strange because she’s guessing by the cut of the suit it must be Oxford (or Cambridge). Bond is wearing an Italian suit (Brioni to be specific) and not and English Savile Row one that presumably someone of Bond’s taste and background would be sporting.

A more plausible answer if we are going by the cinematic Bond universe is Cambridge. Indeed it is stated explicitly by Bond himself. Can you guess?

You Only Live Twice which is has the distinction of being the only Bond film (as far as I can tell) from being set in just one country - Japan.

You remember the scene. Lieutenant commander James Bond has just had a briefing with M on board a submarine and is naturally flirting with Moneypenny on his way out. Moneypenny playfully tosses him a Japanese phrase book, saying he might need it.

“You forget,” Bond responds with an expression just short of a smirk as he tosses it back to her, “I took a first in oriental languages at Cambridge.”

So it seems James Bond is a Cambridge man.

A first means - as any British university student would know - first class honours. It’s the highest classification grade one can get in their undergraduate degree ie a ‘first’. Although at Cambridge, like Oxford, you can also get a double first in the part I and part II of the Tripos. Both universities also award first-class honours with distinction, informally known as a ‘Starred First’ (Cambridge) or a ‘Congratulatory First’ (Oxford).

Another oddity is he says ‘oriental languages’ when one got a degree in ‘oriental studies’ at the Oriental Faculty at Cambridge. That is until 2007 when Cambridge bowed to public and student pressure and chose to drop its Oriental Faculty label and instead adopted the name the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies. Oxford still hangs on to its name the Faculty of Oriental Studies.

My only reservation about crowing over an Oxonian is how truthful was Bond being with Moneypenny in this scene?

Is this line meant to be taken seriously or ironically? Most people seem to take it seriously, despite much of Connery's dialogue being obviously ironic and playful. Certainly, Bond is shown to have never been to Japan before and is incapable of saying anything in Japanese other than the odd "sayonara" and "arigato." But then again Bond does know the correct temperature sake is meant to be served at. So there’s that.

Or it could be Bond was speaking a half-truth. I know speaking from experience as someone who very nearly read asian languages instead of my eventual choice of Classics that ‘Oriental languages’ at the ex-Oriental faculty in Cambridge can mean many other languages e.g. Sanskrit, Hindi, Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic as well as Korean, Japanese and Chinese. It opens up so many other delicious possibilities for Bond. If he read Arabic then perhaps he’s being deeply ironic with Moneypenny (after all she would have drooled over read his MI6 personnel file).

If you think I’m losing my mind then ponder on the fact it was Roald Dahl who penned the screenplay of You Only Live Twice. Dahl was not above snark. Indeed pretty sure he would have got a starred first in snark at any university.

Of course the most obvious explanation is that it’s plot armour as a way for Bond to just get on with the story by suspending the audience belief. Why wouldn’t Bond know Japanese? He seems to know everything else imaginable.

However if it ever was it’s now become canon as EON - the production company behind the Bond films - have stated officially for the fandom that Bond’s official bio has it that he went to Eton and Cambridge, where he got a first in oriental languages. So that seems settled then.

In hindsight it makes perfect sense that Bond went to Cambridge since historically Cambridge has provided the bulk of the spies not just for Her Majesty’s service but also for the other side, the Russians - the so-called Cambridge Spies of Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross, and a host of other traitors. We seem to be an equal opportunities employment service.

I’m sorry to disappoint you and other Oxonians that despite what you might think James Bond didn’t attend Oxford. Believe me as a Cantabrigian it gives me no pleasure to say this…..too much.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #james bond #bond #film #cinema #ian fleming #oxford #cambridge #oxbridge #university #education #cancel culture #culture #society #britain #british #personal

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the-ice-sculpture · 3 years

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Loki Episode 1 initial reaction

Mixed opinions so far. I could write an entire essay on this, and maybe I will at some point, but here are my initial thoughts, starting with the negative:

I really despised the first twenty minutes. It’s so jarring. Loki’s dialogue, especially, doesn’t sound anything like Avengers!Loki. His speech patterns and entire dialect are suddenly different, much more modern and filled with too many Earth-specific terms with no explanation. There’s no easing the viewer into the difference, it’s just suddenly there and it’s horrendously whiplashy

The same applies to the presentation of his character. Avengers!Loki was grandiose and majestic and witty, even when he was being defeated. This Loki... isn’t. He comes across as juvenile, bumbling, over the top in more of a cringey way, and he’s the butt of the jokes that rely on his humiliation. He doesn’t feel like the same character from any of the movies to me, or, at least, not for the first twenty minutes

With the desert scene... Yes, it bugged me that his hair was suddenly shorter and didn’t just look like a messed up version of Avengers!Loki’s hair. And it also bugged me that Loki didn’t understand what the humans were saying in a different language. Was the Allspeak not working? Or if Allspeak doesn’t exist in the MCU, are we supposed to believe he studied the English language or that Asgard and Earth happen to share a common language?

I wanted Loki to put up more of a fight. I don’t mind him being defeated by people more powerful than him, but it felt like he resigned too quickly and allowed himself to be shoved around by them too soon. I wanted him to struggle more, it felt weird for him not to try harder to go all death and destruction and for it to not require more pain inflicted on him to get him to (reluctantly) go along with it

The humour in this show didn’t do it for me. It felt out of place and not even particularly funny to begin with. Yeah, yeah, I get it, they want their show to be irreverent and zany, whatever draws in the largest audience, right? But if they were going to go for that style of humour, it could be done so much better than how they did it here. And I’m reiterating please just let Loki be witty, please

Once it got to the part where Loki’s watching himself on the screen, everything got a lot more palatable for me and the last half has made me more hopeful

I’m liking Mobius so far. He actually tries to understand Loki and listens to him. He has empathy but he isn’t going to let Loki walk all over him either. Mobius sort of feels like a guide for viewers who are unfamiliar with analysing Loki’s character and not taking him at surface level, and he asks some of the right questions. I want to see where they’re going with Mobius and Loki’s dynamic

From the instant I saw Loki watching himself in the trailer, I was hoping he’d learn about his hand in Frigga’s death and his own death, and we got that! And more! We also got Odin's death and Loki and Thor’s reconciliation. I liked that they gave it time for the emotional impact to hit, this was the part that started giving me hope again. This was the first time when Loki’s character felt actually recognisable to me. Also, yes, I did enjoy the ouchies

The whole D.B. Cooper thing didn’t feel like something that Thor 1!Loki would have done in his past. It just didn’t. When I saw that in the trailer, I was hoping it’d be a variant Loki or our Loki having to be in disguise or something, but nope, it’s supposed to be part of our Loki’s past

Neat. By the sounds of it, Mobius will be ‘hiring’ Loki to help him catch a Loki variant. I was hoping for that and the play of Loki’s worst enemy being himself

He escaped faster than I thought the show would let him. I mean, he isn’t all the way out yet, and I don’t think he will be, but still, at least he managed to do something and tried to put up more of a fight. I’m still surprised there were no deaths though

The whole ‘we use Infinity Stones as paperweights’ thing... I get that they’re trying to establish the TVA as a more powerful entity than any we’ve come across in the entire universe, but at what point do you stop keeping having to one up the power of what’s already been established in the MCU? This isn’t so much a criticism as it is something I find interesting as a discussion point

On the bright side, at least most of the stuff I didn’t like in the trailers is out of the way now

I was hoping to come to a more solid conclusion about whether or not I’ll like the show after the first episode, but I’m still undecided. It’s so frustrating because a lot of the issues with it could have been so easily fixed. It’s set straight after Avengers Assemble, therefore Loki should feel like Avengers!Loki. I don’t know why that’s controversial. Just look at Avengers!Loki’s speech patterns and apply them! How hard could that have been? Even if they wanted more ‘accessible’ dialogue for him (and, yes, I’m tired of the anti-intellectual trend these days), they could have gradually eased him from the more Shakespearesque stuff to the dialect he has in Ragnarok, and that could have had an in-universe explanation of him picking up language/assimilating or whatever. But they didn’t. Just, bam, it’s different now because we said so and we don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. I’m so tired of things being constantly retconned and I still don’t know if I have the energy to justify it to myself to myself anymore.

But yeah, I think there’s a good chance of the worst being out of the way now. Could be famous last words, but my hope hasn’t been completely destroyed. The first half really didn’t sit well with me at all, but the latter half was far better, even if it wasn’t perfect.

And I’m sure I’ll think of a bunch of things I should have added to this list straight after posting, but oh well.

#loki spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki negativity #I mean it's not all negative but there's a fair amount of criticism #Loki tv show critical #my posts #spoilers

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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A Series Of Mutual Feelings, 1/3 (Scarjah) - Pazinae

chapter 1: i hate u (and the feelings mutual)

Chapter Summary: Ra'jah is determined to have a fresh start and be a better person, now enrolled as a first year fashion school student- but Scarlet has a way of always making her newfound plans falter. With a rocky high school history, the (not so) fortuitous pair endure some mutual hatred

A/N: enemies 2 luvers scarjah everyone xoxo meant to be a oneshot, but got a little carried away n my doc for this is currently 19 pages long ahaha so to be more palatable it will be a 4 chapter story (its says 3, but you'll see). this one is mainly the intro for the story to understand where they're at emotionally in the present, and is mostly ra'jah centric on her growth + kylie friendship fluff bc theyre the cutest, and a bit of scarlet pov. feedback super super welcome, enjoy !!!

***

Scarlet strode down the hall with a sway in her hips, her heels clacking on the laminate floor. What kind of tacky ass bitch wears heels to school anyways? Ra'jah scoffed internally, watched the girl saunter like she's on a tightrope, each tantalizing step brought her foot exactly in front of the other. Her body fell into a rhythm, stomping the fucking campus like a lion stalking the jungle for the sheer fun of watching it’s prey scamper. Scarlet's bouncing skirt, her signature grin and luscious ginger curls sprouting out her scalp made her gag. And not in the stunning way. Just as quickly as she came she was gone, and, to be fair, she was just another girl sandwiched in the masses just getting to where she’s going. But she could pluck that arrogant little redhead bitch out of any crowd. Not a conscious choice of course, hell, being reminded of her sheer presence causes a battle of trying not to roll her eyes behind her skull. She can't help that she sees her. Not when Scarlet's lips are painted the same shade of bold crimson as the tight, sleeveless top she's wearing, like a fresh drop of blood in a sea of grey clad bodies swimming around in their hoodies.

This isn't high school anymore Ra'jah. A repetitive reminder that needs to be said evermore until it's understood at her core. Because It's different now, she knows that- it has to be. No fucking way are her dreams going to get caught up in everything again, they're too big to be put at stake. She can't live just to be like that again, and this time she's too grown to waste her time on useless people. High school was a bubble, a 4 year trance that she's left and is more than ready to forget about.

"Hey, Ra'jah!" That southern, velvety voice could only belong to one stunning woman. She turned around to spot her speed walking to catch up.

"Aye! Kylie!" Ra'jah stopped and gave a little wave as Kylie approached, her highlight shining even in the shitty indoor light. The two moved over to the side of the hall, and leaned against the wall. "If it isn't Miss Kylie Sonique Love," With such a pleasing name, Ra'jah doesn't think she will, or, really can ever get tired of saying the other girl's name. "What's up?"

"Nothin', just tired as fuck," It's kinda cute, the way her accent gets stronger when she's grumpy. "I'mma pass out at some point, I did not get enough sleep." Even as a grumble her voice is so soft and angelic, Ra'jah could probably fall asleep to the blonde reading true crime murder stories.

"Goddamn, it sure as hell doesn't show!" Which is true, Kylie was as effervescent as always, any visible messy hair from under her beanie looked intentional. Even in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, there was an undeniable, captivating charm about her that made it impossible for her to look bad "You look gorgeous girl"

"Awh, thanks honey," She smiles a soft, hazy smile. "You don't look too bad yourself." She hums, eyeing her up with a grin. Before she could even argue a response, the country girl quickly perks up and slaps her hand on Ra'jah's shoulder in excitement. "Oh also! I want your opinion- I'm thinking about dying my hair pink." She can see the visible sparkle in the pair of eyes looking at hers. "Thoughts?" She asks, voice becoming giddy "Oooh bitch! You better, that'd be so fierce!" The (mostly) purple haired girl exclaimed, delight evident in her voice "For real, you'd look so good. And you know, ba-BY" she claps her hands together just for added emphasis, "I support ALL the impulsive hair decisions".

"Yess, obviously I want input only from bad bitches with the best hair"

"I told you I did these myself right?" she asked, running her shoulder length hair through her twirling fingers. "I've been really into doing hair recently"

"Wait, really? It looks so pretty, the fade to purple is so good"

"What'd you mean 'wait really' hoe, what you implying 'bout my hair skills?"

"Just that a talented woman like you should share your expertise!" Even when she was loud her voice was just as comforting, the tone reminiscent of a silk blanket on her skin

"All it took for me was bleach, a bottle of violet Arctic Fox dye, and the holy spirit of Brad Mondo"

"First of all I'm not trusting no mans named Brad," Ra'jah cackled a little because, yeah that's fair. "And secondly, if you're free, come an' help a girl out then!

"You're inviting me over? Wow we're moving kinda fast Kylie"

"Oh shut up bitch" but the undying twinkle in her eye confirmed the unsaid agreement that Ra'jah would be doing Kylie's hair, at some point.

"I'm free on Thursday, can I visit then?"

"Yea that works" She smiled, and the closeness between the two wasn't something the taller girl ever planned, or really felt before. But she had it now, a friend she really cares about, and she never wanted to lose it.

"Shit what time is it?" Even in her Shitty Human era she was still a timely gal, her mother didn't raise no late hoe. "Don't stress it Raj, we have like 15 minutes. Introduction to drafting and sewing, right?"

"Yes ma'am. Wanna start going?" "Sure thing" This year is for a new start, making new friends, and getting a chance to create new first impressions. Rebrand herself y'know, and the hindrance that is Scarlet's existence, wrapped in all the ancient things she'd rather not think about, won't stop her.

The walk to class was a pleasant blur. With Kylie yawning and walking essentially shoulder to shoulder with Ra'jah had they been the same height, they slipped into both comfortable conversation, and silence. With all the noise around them, their presence brought an ease without any awkwardness.

A trek opted through the outdoor route that was albeit a tad longer, provided some well needed greenery and fresh air.

"You excited for class?" Ra'jah asked, only half aware of where she was walking to. Her body was on autopilot, and Kylie knows the way, probably.

"You're amazing if you can get excited by class"

"It's fun!"

"Only 'cause you're good at it"

"You're good at it"

"You know what I mean. Isn't this one your favorite?"

"It's not my favorite"

"Uh huh"

"I just like it a lot. Maybee essentially jus' cause I don't hafta try" It was a mandatory course, but Ra'jah's not complaining. Perhaps it's a little vain to enjoy something just to remind everyone you can do it, but it was an easy break from the rest of the courses. And a nice little egoboost.

"So I'm right!"

"C'mon it's October and we're still on basic techniques"

"It's called introductory," She remarked. "Do you even pay attention half the time?"

"No but bitch neither do you"

"True" Kylie grinned in agreement.

"The way you're coming for me but it's easy for you too!" She hasn't been sewing as long as Ra'jah, but she has great taste so it really balanced out. "And let it be known that I use that class time to think about incredibly productive things"

"Oh that's her name?"

"What?" She didn't mean for her tone to drop. Didn't mean for her legs to stop walking, planting themselves into the cement. Didn't mean for the smile on her face to plummet at the implication. Her visceral reaction was louder than the cluelessness she gave off.

"Calm down" She giggled, as if Ra'jah's reaction woke her up from her grogginess, her breathlessness equivalent to a shot of espresso for Kylie. "You just seem really occupied sometimes is what I meant"

"Me? No I'm not" She couldn't convince herself.

"Okay babe. The models of your fashion sketches just look a little reminiscent"

"You know Scarlet isn't the only person with ginger hair right?" Ra'jah bites back, the condescending tone not her intention, but not exactly unwanted in the moment. Scarlet is insufferable, she doesn't want her own name slandered is all, being associated with the arrogant shit.

"Baby, I ain't mention Scarlet. That's all you.'' She had a shit eating smirk and maybe Ra'jah takes everything back about how nice friends are. IF there was inspiration, Scarlet is objectively nice looking so it's not a big deal there might be similarities if you squint.

"She was implied"

"If you want her to be"

They get inside and take a seat at one of the large tables, divided into stations with a sewing machine and some material at each one. Ra'jah takes a spot at the edge, with Kylie seated to her right.

On paper, it's all been planned out for Ra'jah; during her strolls between classes she'll take in all her surroundings and actively look for inspiration, pondering all the natural shapes and patterns of the world in a way she can manipulate into clothing. On paper, she'll make the most out of the introductory class, sketching designs between the minimal notes and sewing practices. On paper, she'll finish the mornings class with ease and have extra time to practice some new things.

In reality? Paper is flimsy, especially when its accountability is held by a fleeting mind. It's hard to bask in the world when unwanted questions plague her head. Mostly revolving around a certain redhead. God, fuck her. Fuck her pretty eyes and fuck her sculpted face and fuck her euphonious voice. Does everyone who sees Ra'jah see her patheticness? How she allowed some cunt to infiltrate her mind, set up home in her head and take up all the space? Let her infect every cell in the brain like a parasite until her skull is nothing but an infiltrated shell for an infestation caught up with infatuation?

"Ra'jah, you good?" The girl sat across from her, Trinity, piped up, and Ra'jah had to bite back a smile. The icy, timid girl she met just a few weeks ago was starting the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You just looked a little spaced out"

"Nah, it's just that this class is a breeze an' I'm just thinking about a project for another class"

"Mmm"

"Plus it's hard to just think of designs when there's no inspiration"

"I mean, we're supposed to practice gathering and making ruffles right now"

"Oh shit! We are?"

"Yeah girl!" Ra'jah, shaking her head at herself, finally picked up some of the fabric around her and got to work. "You'll be alright?"

"Oh don't worry about me! I'm all good"

"Okayyy if you need anything just yell" Ra'jah replied with a hum and a nod. Watching the girl running the fabric under the machine, memories of the first time they'd talked flashed, days of the nearly silent girl feeling so distant.

"I really like your earrings" The girl raised her head, looking left and right a little as if making sure it was directed at her.

"Thanks." She mumbled, vaguely looking at Ra'jah's direction.

"If you don't mind, where'd you get them?"

"Uh, I thrifted it."

"Oh, cool" Ra'jah smiled, before quickly adding "Thanks". The raven haired girl didn't reply. The start of the intriguing game of 'does she hate me, is she shy, or both?'

After all the awkward attempts made for the quiet girl to be comfortable and maybe make a friend, a sense of pride rang through her. She met Kylie and Trinity here a mere month ago, and yeah, maybe she could be nice. She could walk the fineline of warm socialization without being annoying. The new Ra'jah doesn't do unnecessary mean quips just for the sake of a little power rush. She can be authentically her while being polite. New Ra'jah makes friends- not enemies.

"Oh by the way" Ra'jah snapped her head up at Trinity's voice

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I know it's a little random but do you know what you're gonna be for Halloween?"

"Huh. Well, I haven't really thought about it" Ra'jah remarked, "I just don't care for Halloween and all that"

"Really? Girl, you're not gonna do anything, dress up, go out, nothing?"

"Baby all that work and money for some costume I'll wear once? No ma'am- and the fuck will I do, I barely have ideas for school!"

"Hey, you could wear anything and it's a costume. Wear a black dress, you're a cat"

"You think I'm that basic?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck you" She snorted, and Trinity had a goofy smile, looking at Ra'jah with a sense of familiar fondness. "And thanks, really, but I don't care for all that spooky shit anyways"

"Damn, alright!" Teeth out and all, she laughed. The blonde on the right leaned in a little, a pleasant opposition of Trinity's hesitation is Kylie's eagerness

"Jesus Ra'jah, what did Halloween do to you?" The southern girl butts in. "You could dress as the grinch of Halloween, steal children's candy"

"You know what, yeah, I'll be a sluttified grinch"

"You're kinda built the same already" Trinity joins with a grin

"Hey!"

"Sluttified? Are you implying the grinch isn't sexy enough?" Ra'jah choked a little at that, found herself smiling with some dopey content, at what exactly she's not sure.

"Do ya'll think being the grinch would count as like, being a furry?" Trinity asked, voice dripping in an odd amount of seriousness.

"What? Baby no" Kylie jumped in. "Yes! absolutely, how would it NOT?" Trinity argues, and maybe it's the easiness of everything. Of how nice it is to just fall into banter when you let people in. Bouncing off the two girls, she doesn't need to think of how to be funny, how to one up herself, remind everyone of why she's worthy. She can just, be. And that warrants a smile.

With Ra'jah's elbow propped on the table, she rested her cheek against her palm to face forward, before turning a little to face Trinity

"But why do ya ask Trin? About Halloween"

"Oh, kinda last minute but I just want some ideas to figure mine out" She shrugs, and Kylie leans over once more. It's a little heartwarming, how physically close she always instinctively wants to be.

"Oh! Are you going to the Halloween party this weekend?"

"Nah parties aren't really my thing"

"Awh, but it'll be fun!"

"Yeah standing in a mass of people I won't talk to will be so fun"

"Fine- Ra'jah, are you goin'?" Rajah turns her head to follow the voices like a cat keeping up with a beam of light.

"Uh..."

"RIGHT, forgot, Halloween's not your thing". A party where she can have a disguise, let loose and have fun. It feels almost embarrassing to admit to her newfound friends that she's never been to a party, and the thought of a Halloween party didn't even cross her mind. Maybe Halloween isn't not her thing, it's just not something she'd indulge in. For reasons. Like, schoolwork.

"Welllllll…" Ra'jah hummed, dragging on with a small grin

"OH the prospect of partying changes things huh?"

"You know, me an' Halloween, we complicated okay!" They laugh, but Ra'jah's left thinking. New or old Ra'jah both, spends a little too much time in the internal realm of the brain.

The class falls silent except the murmurs of the buzzing machines, and the three chatter in whispers. Although usually it's mostly her and Kylie with occasional injections of confirmation from Trinity

"You're insane if you think spaghettini is better than fettuccine" Kylie protested "Spaghettini is literally the objective worst"

"Says who?!" Ra'jah paused sewing to look up at Kylie in defiance

"Me!"

"Trinity which is better"

"Huh? Ya'll It's too early for this." Trinity complained.

"Oh, says the bitch who asked if the grinch was a furry" Ra'jah retorted, but Trinity brushed her off to look at Kylie "Oh wait! Also, Kylie, what're you gonna be for Halloween?" She gave a little snicker before answering

"Don't come for me but honestly? Was thinking about being a cat"

"AAAAAH!" Ra'jah and Trinity erupted laughing.

"But like, a hot one okay!" Ra'jah quickly tried to redeem herself.

"You'll be the hottest ass cat around" Plus, worse comes to worst, Ra'jah will be a witch or something, and they can be hot and basic together.

When the class ended, they packed their things, and exchanged their goodbyes

"I'll see y'all around!"

"See you! Good luck on your textile project Trin"

"Thanks!" She waved, yelling a final "Bye!"

"Bye!" The three part, and Ra'jah makes her way to her second class. History of costume and design was next, and quickly weighing it out, she decided to take a quicker path through the halls. Suddenly, the weight of a body knocked at her side, the two stumbling around for a few seconds. A gust of papers had fallen from both parties' arms, and landed on the floor.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" Scarlet cuts herself off when she looks up at whom she's bumped into.

"Maybe watch where you're going" Ra'jah snorts out of sheer instinct, squatting down to gather her papers where Scarlet follows suit, just a little too close. The vague, sweet scent of strawberries she gives off is suffocating.

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" The attention sends a masochistic jolt down her spine

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" As much as she screamed internally to just shut the fuck up and get your things, it was so easy to slip back to this.

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try"

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Please don't imply that. Please don't make me doubt that I can and deserve to be here. I don't want to seek approval from others, but I can't help but be hurt at disapproval. Of course, her thoughts don't verbalize as the words that come out of her mouth. "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying" Before she can think it through, process the flash of hurt on her face and the way her fingers tense around the last piece of paper, before Ra'jah can really understand the weight of her own words she continues. "But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?"

Their exchanges were in aggressive whispers, hushed to anyone above them. To most people, they'd find a sight of two girls muttering to one another while they pick up some things they've dropped.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" Scarlet huffed, standing up in one swift motion. Those words aren't a compliment. Like, at all. So why does Ra'jah's dumb, twisted heart stop for a second? The implied connection of herself and 'pretty' slows her body and slurs her mind until she's pushing herself up off the ground in slow motion. It's been so many months of mundanity, the small interaction felt all so familiar and foreign and exciting at the same time.But the haziness of her words and their little games makes her forget for a second of what the fuck just happened, and a wave of patheticness washed over her as she started to walk, eyes focused at the cream walls. For all her hemming and hawing, Ra'jah hasn't. Fucking. Changed.

A rush of everything dives into her guts, a sick adrenaline coated in dread, self loathing and the slight urge to cry, nestling in her stomach like a bird claiming a branch as it's home. Her skin was electric, and she hated to admit she loved it, the thrill of interacting with her, cattiness and all. Imagine feeling this much from fucking bumping into someone? Fingers clenched, nails digging in her own palms at how much she hates her. Intense emotions are a high of their own, and Ra'jah can't help but indulge. The piercing sting of her flesh being pressed in with her nails is intensified as she listens for the faint voice of that lanky girl always accompanying Scarlet.

"You good Scarlet?"

"Yeah, thanks" She can't look back, but she can't help but wonder- are they hugging? Holding hands? It doesn't- it shouldn't matter to her. The fun amusement pales in comparison to the misery settling in. The realization that she's fighting with Scarlet like they're 16 at the back of English class.

Of all the schools, why'd that girl have to come here? Of all the things to pursue, why the same as herself? Of all the people, why'd it have to be her? Ra'jah didn't have the audacity to explore the last question. What she means, she's not too sure. The only thing in the world she's sure of is that she can't be both New Ra'jah™ and Old Ra'jah™ to different people. The line between the two existences isn't so bold anymore, and painting over the bumps isn't as effective as she'd hoped.

***

Truth be told, watching herself move around in skirts was one of her favorite things- just about tied with watching others watch her. Maybe that's why she joined cheer in highschool. Especially with the support from (or, lack of thereof) a certain grimacing purple haired girl, a runaway model from a fashion show who wound up wandering this school. She never needed to turn and look, didn't need sight to know there's a burn at her back, nor who it's radiating from. Scarlet always walked with just a bit of a straighter back, just a bit more purpose, and just a bit more stride in her step when her favorite pair of wandering eyes were around. A small part of her always wants to turn around, catch her gaze and watch her frantically look away and pretend she's talking to someone. Or maybe she'll hold it, stare back with just as much intensity. But her wistful attention is enough of an ego boost. The scowl ridden bitch, smile washed away just for her, and yet that's where her attention lied. It made her bite back a smile.

Scarlet is a pretty thing, and she didn't need constant confirmation to remind her that she's beautiful. She's hot, she knows it, Ra'jah knows it, and Scarlet knows that's all she is to her. A pretty thing. Whatever. She's not important.

In fear of her brain melting, and/or being fried to a crisp, Scarlet doesn't bother having two classes back to back. Her mental capacity is full, and a nice salad will probably help with that. She's on her way to meet with Yvie for lunch, thinking about their weekend plans, when she takes a misstep and stumbles, all her weight focused in her shoulder which slams against someone else's side.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" the universe is an asshole. May the odds never be in my favor.

"Maybe watch where you're going" Her sneer is venomous, and the universe has suddenly become just the second biggest asshole.

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" Ra'jah didn't do anything, a rational voice lectures, but she ignores it the way she's ignoring the taller girls face. Scarlet's grabbing at her papers, avoiding eye contact because that selfish pile of shit on her right takes up enough space as is, and if she looks into her eyes, sees that stupid fucking face this close she might do something bad. Like, in the sense of, punching her. Yeah, she can't look at her or she'll beat her up. Because that's a fight she'd win.

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" Ra'jah snides, and she needs to drop out before Scarlet gets grey hair from her.

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try" Her words are about as empty as her own stomach, because she hasn't eaten since last night, and Ra'jah will quit fashion school and become a science engineer before she fails out.

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Yeah, with the flawless outfit you're wearing that you sure as hell made just because you were bored one night. Your pants could literally be sold as a luxury brand. The girl who started sewing when she a embryo in the womb, you'll fucking fail out. "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying- But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?" Scarlet looks up, not at Ra'jah but away from the ground, and the urge to yell, hit her, and cry come up at the same time. She wants to scream, get everyone in hearing range to know that Ra'jah is a loser who will amount to nothing. She wants to reach out and choke her. But articulating her anger into words is too much, and she ends up just whispering whatever words are willing to come out as she gets up, not caring if she left any papers behind.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" And that's the closest thing to honest Scarlet's said all day.

In the distance, she sees Yvie walking towards her, so she waits until the freshly dyed green haired girl is caught up beside her.

"You good Scarlet?"

"Yeah, thanks" The two walk together, side by side, and Scarlet loops her arm through Yvie's, linking the pair.

"You know, Scarlie, you should stop wearing heels before you break your ankles"

"Hey!" She giggled, slapping the taller girl's arm in response. "I never fall, people just get in my way" Yvie scoffs, unable to stop the corners of her lips turning up and giving her away, forever endeared by the shorter girl. Scarlet's affection makes her forget that they've only known each other for a month. They reach a set of blue doors, and Yvie opens it, holding it for Scarlet to come through. Her face seems puzzled

"Are you down to go to Mika's Cafe? I want to get some coffee"

"Sure, they have nice breakfast sandwiches and omelettes, I'm down" It's only a few minutes away from campus

"What's on your mind"

"Just like, school stuff. I have to make a dress for creative fashion design, and I'm just thinking about it, and what I wanna do" Would it be tmi to blurt that Ra'jah is insufferable?

"Cool," Yvie hummed, and spiteful words cycled through Scarlet's head, deciding on what exactly to say, before Yvie beats her to it, whipping her head in some seeming urgency

"OH by the way, I know you're busy with your project and you're determined on getting in the top 5 and all,"

"Uh huh"

"Buuuuut, there's a Halloween party this weekend, and I was gonna go with Brooke and her friends but they're not going anymore," Scarlet knows how Yvie feels about Brooke, and to be fair she's only met her a few times in passing, but how someone like Yvie could fall for someone as uptight as the boring blonde is beyond her. She doesn't dare bring up another possibility of why her dorm mate would be avoiding the stoic girl, a possibility involving a particularly hot headed latina glued to the Canadians side. "They decided clubbing downtown would be more fun or whatever," They're outside on the pavement now, and the afternoon breeze graces their skin. It's a welcome environment, and Scarlet slows down her pace to enjoy the air, with Yvie quickly matching her pace.

"Wouldn't you rather go clubbing though? Like not with Brooke and them but with others," Scarlet is friendly and all, but she swears Yvie is somehow friends with half the school. She sure as hell can find a group to go with.

"I guess, but I want to go to the party," she quiets a little as she continues, "There are some people I want to see there, for fun and stuff"

"Mmmm!" Scarlet widens her eyes, looking at the taller girl with a knowing glare, sprinkled with a teeny bit of judgement.

"It's kinda lame to go there alone!"

"No it's not!"

"Scarls, yeah it is"

"Why do you even care? Wanna impress some girls?" In response, Yvie rolled her eyes so hard Scarlet could practically feel it.

"'Cause you want me to go to a fun Halloween party by myself?

"Yes! You could walk up to anyone and there's like an 80% chance you already know them, and a 100% chance you'll become friends anyways" The quirky girl's charm is undeniable, she'll be fine without Scarlet. Yvie gives a defeated sigh

"Seems kinda homophobic"

"Ugh you know what's actually homophobic? The fact that more people aren't madly in love with me. I'm LITERALLY perfect" The prospect of love feels like it's been dangled infront of her, her whole life. Imagine looking like Scarlet, and never dated before?

"You're right girl, you are" Yvie laughed her deep, hearty cackle and Scarlet wanted to melt a little.

"Thank you, finally someone with taste" Looking at her outfit, she remembers that the tall girl's taste is kind of debatable, and Scarlet almost wants to say she takes it back

"You think Ra'jah has good taste then?"

"What?"

"Also a party seems like the best way to meet more people y'know?" She brushes over her last question, and it's much better that way.

"You know what, whatever 'll go with you" Scarlet agrees so she'll shut up. If she hears her roommate bring up she-who-shall-not-be-named-because-shes-a-stick-in-the-ass anymore she might lose her mind. And, she really doesn't have any other plans for the night so might as well.

***

AN: going to be a while for the next chapter bc im busy so here's a lil thing lol xo

***

They weren't supposed to meet here. Weren't supposed to see each other. At least, that's what Scarlet tries to tell herself.

"You are such a fucking pain, oh my god" Scarlet seethed because everything is hazy except the impassive girl standing before her and she can't think straight. Her cold eyes are apathetic and Scarlet wants to implode, like a glass thermostat engulfed in a burning heat where it's not a question of if, but an inevitable when? "Maybe I am arrogant" Her voice was coated in a sickly sweet frustration. She pushed further into Ra'jah's space, the taller girl stiffening at the ever decreasing space between the two. How can she be so still, so unreactive? This is all so amusing to her? Is she having fun, so fucking detached from everything and watching Scarlet crumble? Pretending like she cares about Scarlet past her pretty face? Enjoying her sadistic game? Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.

"Maybe I am narcissistic" Their faces were inches apart, and Ra'jah could feel the angry womans hot breathe on her cheek, the pungent smell of alcohol intruding her nose.

"But I'd rather be a confident, arrogant narcissist than whatever kind of sad fuck you are"

Scarlet growled, and she wanted to breathe fire, burn Ra'jah's existence out of her mind and scream at everything she felt because of her. Except that she sees her, and wants her, wants to hurt her and touch her and without thinking her hands are digging around Ra'jah's waist.

"You are such-" Scarlet was interrupted as the other girl leaned in, framed the shorter girl's face with both her hands, and pressed her lips against Scarlets. Any thoughts or mental functionality she had were put to an abrupt stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. It's been so long, but no time has passed since they were last like this. The plug to her brain was pulled, and it's all static and her bodys done a full 180. Ra'jah's piercing lips are numbing, and her overheated body feels like it's been dunked in ice where all her nerves are all in shock. They weren't supposed to do this anymore, it's the only thing they've ever been able to agree on. She was frozen, unable to move, or think, far too busy being hyper focused on the familiar sugary lips on hers, sending waves of nostalgia through her body. Time has only heighted the intoxication. She gains some composure and surges forward, but Ra'jah's pulling away, opening her mouth to finally say something.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet"

#rpdr fanfiction #as6 #ra'jah o'hara #scarlet envy #trinity k bonet #kylie sonique love #yvie oddly #ra'jah x scarlet #enemies to lovers #lesbian au #fashion school au #a series of mutual feelings #pazinae #concrit welcome

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fayewonglibrary · 3 years

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Wong’s Way (2011)

An anomaly in the cookie-cutter world of Cantopop, FAYE WONG has paradoxically found success by playing against the rules. Prestige Hong Kong follows her down the road less travelled

FIVE YEARS MAY not seem like that long, but it can be a lifetime in an entertainment industry that feeds off the right-here and the right-now. So it came as a surprise when, half a decade ago, Faye Wong decided to step back from the limelight and resume as much of a normal life as might ever be possible for a woman whose music has sold in the millions and who has combined that side of her existence with an acclaimed acting career.

From an existence playing before tens of thousands, what the Beijing-born Wong longed for at that point in time was a life tucked away in the peace and tranquillity of home – and after almost 20 years in the spotlight, and with her every move followed by a fan base that can be tallied in the millions, who could really blame her?

But as an artist who in an age of corporate conformity flatly refuses to play to any predetermined stereotype, Wong has always preferred to play by her own rules. It may come as a surprise, then, to find out that Faye Wong was not always “Faye” – diehard fans will remember a period in which the artist was known as Shirley Wong Ching-man, an affectation suggested by her record company early in her career, because of the stigma associated with the hip factor (or lack thereof) of mainland Chinese artists and names.

Even Wong’s early hits weren’t what you would call “original” – her first few albums were filled with formulaic Cantopop: collections of saccharine, predictable tunes that failed to properly utilise her delicate, lilting soprano. When she broke out of that shell in 1992, after a short travel hiatus, she finally found success, initially with a cover of a Japanese chart-topper in Cantonese, “Fragile Woman.”

Despite her disinclination to be impacted by her local contemporaries, Wong was not without her influences. She covered songs by The Cranberries, took quirky style cues from Björk and collaborated with the Cocteau Twins. The further she strayed from Cantopop, the more fame she found, penning her own songs and admittedly self-indulgent lyrics. She rapped on “No Exit,” yodelled through “Di-Dar” and even won the hearts of nerds by wailing the English-language title track to the hit video-game Final Fantasy VIII, “Eyes On Me.”

Even when her albums weren’t critical or commercial successes, her fame continued to grow, exponentially and uncontrollably. Her handful of acting roles, including in Chungking Express and 2046, showcased a curious, simultaneous aloofness and magnetism, an infectious, ravishing oddness.

In 2005, two months before she married actor Li Yapeng, she announced that she would take a break from show business. And so for five years there have been sightings, the occasional public appearance and the work for her own charity, but otherwise it’s pretty much been silence from Wong, as her fans – and the world at large – waited.

With that in mind, we should not have been surprised at the reaction to the news that Wong would finally be reemerging, to stage comeback concerts that started in Beijing last October, then took in Shanghai and Taipei before coming to Hong Kong, the place where Wong’s career was launched, for a series of shows in March. Tickets – for all nights, at all venues – sold out in a matter of days and the critical response has been overwhelming.

The headlines said it all: “The Diva is Back.”

What the Wong faithful have found is that their idol has lost none of the passion for the music that forms, as she puts it herself, part of her fate. They’ve been treated to nights filled with the songs that have formed the soundtrack for the lives of a generation here in Hong Kong – and beyond.

When Prestige Hong Kong found the interview-shy 40-year-old, she was in between shows and letting that fate take its course. What Wong wants the world to know is that throughout her storied career there has, she says, never been any real plan. She’s simply a woman who lets the cards fall as they may.

Can you talk a little about your return to the stage and playing live? What brought about the decision to play your recent concerts? I consider this a natural move for me. I’ve been doing several commercials as well as releasing some new singles over the past few years. So this was a natural progression back to live performances. It’s all part of my career.

How did you go about deciding what form the concerts would take and the songs you played? There’s no special form or arrangement that’s deliberately conceived for my concert. I believe my singing is the main source of interaction between the audience and me. Every show is unique and my mood is different, depending on the atmosphere. It’s not my practice to talk much with people or have any planned speech in my concert, because I don’t want the conversation to ruin the whole integrity and mood of the arrangement of the concert. I hope my audiences can indulge themselves with my music, while also digesting the message my show is delivering.

After the recent concerts in Shanghai and Beijing, what’s your feeling about coming back on stage? It feels so good to see all my fans again.

Do you have any plans to work on a new album? If so, will you be writing songs yourself? There’s no plan to work on a whole new album. But there is a possibility to release singles, and maybe I’ll write some songs myself.

How different to you is the experience of playing live now as compared to when your career began? What have you learned and how much has the experience for you changed over the years? I’ve been working with different sets of crews, composers, producers etc since the beginning of my career. Each of these collaborations has opened up a whole new experience and been an amazing inspiration for me. Call it a fireworks feeling.

What was it that initially drew you to the music business? What was it that you found most exciting? I believe singing is my destiny, and it’s fate that this became my career. I find it gratifying that I’m able to touch people’s lives with my songs. It’s a form of good karma.

Have your musical tastes changed or evolved as you matured as a person and as an actress? I admire different types of music and things depending on the different stages of my life.

Did becoming a mother change how you approached both your singing and your career? There was no change. I still sing with the same commitment and feeling, and it’s the same with my career.

And how much, do you think, did this change you as a person? The process of raising a child is part of my evolution as a human being. If you’re not a parent or don’t fully involve yourself as a parent, you’ll never realise this traditional, fulfilling role of parenthood. As a parent, it’s natural to want to show your best side and provide the best example to your child. However, sometimes it’s hard to break habits that may surface from time to time. It’s a painful cycle, because even though you realise your own faults, to change yourself completely requires a lot of courage and determination.

We’re curious about a typical day for Faye Wong. What’s your routine when you’re not performing? What time do you go to bed, what’s your favourite meal and what activities do you share with your kids? Basically, I go to bed and wake up the same time as my kids do. I got used to enjoying the regular pattern of a healthy lifestyle, but that won’t happen coming back to work.

Frankly, there’s so much to do when you take charge of a whole household. My life in the past few years was completely occupied by family and there was no time for me ever to feel bored. Sometimes I feel that I was even busier than when I was working as a singer.

Do you think your children share the same character as you? When I look at my kids, it’s like looking into a mirror and seeing the deepest side of myself.

What are the things that make you most happy now, compared with when you were younger? What do you now cherish most? I cherish everyone and everything. I’m fortunate to appreciate what I have and the people I know.

How do you see your image now? Are you an artist who is careful to control her image, or is it more a case of come what may? The most effortless style suits me best. I aim to be the most natural, honest in my approach. I want it to be pure, not something that seems too contrived or created just to fit the latest trend.

What are you most passionate about? To find the real meaning of life, and share it with lots of people.

What about acting? Is this something you’re keen to pick up again as well? If so, what kinds of films and roles might interest you? Right now, I have no plans on filming.

What are the challenges you see ahead in the next few years? What can your audience expect? My life has no planning, and I’m not a person who conceives everything in advance. It always depends on what’s being offered and what I feel like doing at that moment. There’s no pressure on myself – I leave everything to chance and fate.

The Smile Angel Foundation was founded in Beijing in 2006 by you and your husband, Li Yapeng, after your own child was afflicted with a cleft lip. It’s helped a lot of other children suffering from cleft lips and palates. Has the foundation changed your life or your character in any way? My contribution to Smile Angel Foundation is not as much as my husband’s involvement. He’s very busy working on plans to support the foundation. For me, basically, I’ll attend annual charity events and activities to lend my support.

On this project, we started everything from scratch and are very gratified to see how much it has accomplished. My husband is definitely the driving force behind the foundation, and I really admire his passion, courage and capability.

At your current stage, do you think you have evolved in your perspective of things compared with when you were younger? Can you share your road of growth a little bit? I was a bit stubborn, objective and capricious when I was younger. I’m now more willing to be open-minded and flexible, and always try to remind myself about this. It’s quite difficult to stop old habits surfacing from time to time. But I’m trying hard to accomplish it.

Do you have any advice on how to maintain a woman’s beauty and charm after the age of 30? First of all, you have to accept your age. I believe everyone has their own unique way to create their own charm and maintain their beauty, which is sometimes a very personal approach. One should find one’s own best way; there really is no standard formula for everyone to maintain their beauty. I believe the most natural side of a person is the most beautiful.

You’re acclaimed as a pioneer of alternative music. Does that mean you won’t compromise with the commercial market? I never define my music as “mainstream” or “edgy” or “alternative.” I just do what I like.

Photography / Shameless Eye Production AG Styling / Titi Kwan Hair / Alain Pichon Make-up / Zing Wardrobe / Céline Spring 2011 collection

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

SOURCE: PRESTIGE HONG KONG

#2011

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wanderbythewayside · 3 years

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I think one of the things I really like about ToG is that there is no cheap redemption (it can actually be argued that there is no redemption since being good isn’t actually a requirement of being a main character here and no one does shit to deserve it.

I’ll have to dip into other fandoms to explain my point but I’ll try to stick to big ones so most people can follow along.

Because so many shoujo mangas/animes are targeted towards younger people there’s this sort of unspoken rule that if a character is going to be in the main cast they have to be good, or at least on their way to being good. But when you combine that with too many side characters that you can’t spend any real time on them or if it’s an adaptation of something and the writers are trying to make a character more palatable you end up getting this forced, awkward sudden turn around or a ‘surprise! they were good all along! they just had (bad) reasons to act like a shitty human being.’ And not only is it majorly unsatisfying if you take any time to analyze these characters but it creates this sort of precedent of victims being expected to forgive their abusers or, in the worst case, outright victim-blaming in an attempt to make the “redeemed” character look good. The latter is usually by the fans of said redeemed character and it’s gross.

Before I go on let me make this clear, you can have bad characters, you can have redeemed characters, you can have problematic characters and relationships, half the reason we have media is to explore that shit, but don’t try to tell me or make me believe a morally wrong character is actually good when you’ve put none of the work in.

Fairy Tail and Naruto were really bad for this. One of the main signs they were trying to make a bad character look good is if they keep flashing back to their Tragic Story whenever that character is doing something shitty or when that character is apologizing. It’s a great flashing “See! This character isn’t that bad! Pity them! :P” And asking the audience to forgive a character after 20 seconds of sad footage with absolutely no set up is one thing, but having their victims only ever forgive them and move on is not only lazy it massively under-represents real life victims. And you see the clash in the fandom, people who love the redeemed characters just rage on fans who accurately point out that an apology or a sad past does NOT equal redemption or forgiveness and it is UNCOMFORTABLE to watch.

I get that you relate to this shitty character but please don’t pretend that you loving them makes them a good character.

In Naruto Itachi’s grand “He’s a good person!” reveal comes after he tricks Sasuke into killing him, which comes after he tortured Sasuke twice (something he wasn’t forced to do unlike some of the rest of the shit he did) and so many fans decided he was a perfectly good person and ignored how even that last act, meant to be about Itachi punishing himself for the shit he himself did, fucked over his brother, but I’m still supposed to believe he was a good character all along. And in Fairy Tail Minerva beats the shit out of Lucy for no other reason than that she can, but later I’m supposed to believe that she suddenly had a change of heart with no other set up than the, also, abusive Guild Master was no longer there to encourage it or that she’s actually done anything to deserve that redemption.

Again, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t like these characters, or that you shouldn’t like morally questionable characters, but if you can’t like them without distorting them in your head to make them good maybe you should take a better look at why you like them.

In ToG literally no character gets a redemption arc despite the fact that they have all done some pretty awful things. The greatest example of this that I can think of is Hoaquin. As an audience we’re in the train being told how terrible and awful this guy is and then we get hit with a flashback, and it shows us that he does have some sad shit; all he ever wanted was the approval of his father, and it is his father’s callous disregard and neglect that causes Hoaquin to go to such extremes. And it’s following the shoujo formula, or at least the start of it. But then in that same flashback (sort of) we’re also told that Hoaquin had no intention of ever letting one of his siblings lead their weird body-horror-group-project and deliberately mislead them as to what the spell would do. It is so important that he is roughly the same age in both scenes because we are, in fast succession, given a reason to sympathize with him, and then a reminder that even that young he was a manipulative little shit that cared about no one’s life or ambitions more than his own.

Instead of some ham-fisted attempt at getting my sympathy so I’ll accept that he’ll work with Baam or Baam will work with him I am (implicitly) told exactly what he is: He’s a shitty, morally dark character, he’s just ALSO a fleshed out character with reasons and motivations for the way that he is. I am not supposed to think he’s a good character, I’m not supposed to think he is worthy of redemption, I am just shown who and what he is and get to decide whether or not I like it for myself. And I do like him, not because I think he has the capacity to be good, but because I find him deeply compelling in his complete lack of justification for himself or any hint of remorse. ToG doesn’t try to tell me what to think of it’s characters, it just let’s me learn about them, and I fucking love that.

#tog #tower of god #character analysis #redemption #tropes #fairy tail #naruto #itachi uchiha #sasuke uchiha #hoaquin #minerva #lucy heartfilia #in this essay i will

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gayregis · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on TWN using non polish actors to portray characters from polish fantasy book with dense polish culture and roots? And on how most of the cast apperereance are drastically different than in the books? Like Foltest, Renfri, Fringilla or Calanthe? (Sorry this is the correct one, i forgot to add Fringilla on my previous question.)

i feel like the witcher should not be handled by a large american company like netflix. it is clear that a lot of decisions were made to “dumb the series down” in a manner that would make it more of a pop culture phenomenon that could be used to profit off of from viewership, subscriptions, social buzz, and merchandise, instead of an opportunity to demonstrate actual artistry, storytelling, character depth, and poignant messages. the company that handles it CAN be american or another nationality besides polish, but it shouldn’t be a huge one focused on making as much money and social sharability as possible, that will ruin things. (i also feel like the witcher should not be a live-action adaptation, but this is kind of besides the point... to better gauge how i think the feel of a visual-audial witcher adaptation should look, my dream adaptation would be that of a more “adult version” (”adult” meaning in themes like war and despair) studio ghibli or laika).

in regards to casting, i feel like it’s fine to not use an all polish cast as long as they fit the character description in a way that is actually relevant to the plot. so many people in response to people of color being cast in the witcher were volalitely racist and demanded a “polish cast” - as if polish MUST = white. even though poland is not as ethically diverse as some other european countries, people of color do exist in poland, as they/we exist everywhere. if you want an “all-polish cast and production,” that’s fine to me, i don’t think it’s inherently necessary, but i think if one is doing so, that doesn’t mean that it would be wrong to cast actors of color in roles.

i think the issue lies more with storytellng, for two reasons. one is that eastern european people involved on set seem to actually understand the witcher and what it’s about way better than any of the british cast, and by that i mean sakharov and baginski, who have demonstrated more understanding of like, the style of storytelling (not every scene needs to be jammed with action, drama, sex, gore), what the characters actually mean to each other, and the lore in general. this makes sense because i have read some articles and such before about how the witcher was and is important to its fans in poland and eastern europe because very little “slavic fantasy” ever gets exported and represented internationally, and of course sapkowski involved many cultural references in the series, so it’s recognizable to people from those regions (or are diaspora from those regions) who grew up hearing these fairytales, etc. it’s more of a meaningful callback and less of a “foreign curiosity,” if that makes sense. so for those reasons, i think it’s important to have a majority polish and/or slavic writing room/directors/etc, people behind the story and how the story is told - but that doesn’t mean the writer’s room should be all white men, though. diversity in gender, race, etc should be considered.

the other reason is that the casting for the netflix is inaccurate, but not for reasons of race. the issue with anya chalotra as yennefer isn’t that she is indian, it’s that her hair is incredibly straight and flat and not like yennefer’s curly stormy hair at all, and that her face is so soft and childlike, she doesn’t look stern and cold like yennefer at all. there are many casting issues amongst the white members of cast, such as henry cavill, who doesn’t fit the description of geralt at all because geralt looks like he’s starved constantly, and joey batey, who ... well, dandelion is supposed to be blonde and curly long-haired... but of course, these are the appearances which don’t really “matter” in regards to the story. except i think geralt’s build, as well as yennefer and ciri’s proximity in age, which makes me nauseous to think about how they only have a 6 year age difference

one physical description which does actually matter to the plot/lore is that of calanthe, pavetta, and ciri, as they are a matrelineal line, but in netflix, they don’t look related at all. i saw so many people complaining that they should have chosen a white actress for calanthe, but why is she the problem? why not cast people of color for calanthe, pavetta, and ciri altogether? they should look related and have the ashen grey hair/green eyes, but that doesn’t mean they have to be white. it’s a similar issue with yennefer and fringilla. they are supposed to look similar, and i saw many people complaining that they chose mimi who is black to be fringilla, they are just using “they need to look similar” as an excuse to hide their racism and anti-blackness, because anya is more white-passing than mimi is. from my perspective, why not then cast a black actress who looks similar to mimi as yennefer, then? “they need to look similar” again does not mean “they need to all be white or white-passing.”

we should have cast actors that both fit the descriptions of the characters in the books AND are diverse, without it being “random diversity to appeal to a diverse audience.” lauren thought she was so clever by throwing the actors of color in the roles of background characters, stereotypes, forgettable and disposable aides to the white leads, or super evil villains... i see what you did... why not center actors of color in an actually proud and leading light, with lead roles, where the casting makes sense and isn’t there for tokenization that does nothing to empower people of color? actually incorporate people of color into your artistic projects in a way that respects them and makes sense and not just so you can get more views to make more money

other divergences from canon like foltest were just piss-poor and demonstrated the lack of understanding about the messages of the story. foltest was supposed to be handsome, elegant, and as a refined a king as any, to show how those in power are actually corrupt and as prone to disgusting acts as any other human being, that foltest is not a better man than geralt because he is beautiful and sits on a throne. by making him disgusting on the outside, they totally missed the point that he is supposed to mask his disgustingness on the inside with beauty on the outside. also i feel like (maybe related) twn really made a whole joke out of foltest and his relationship to his sister because in one of the flashbacks (in the sorcerer? gala? party?) foltest is shown as a kid with his sister and his mom grabs his arm or whatever and is like “foltest stop bothering your sister” as like some kind of fucking joke... literally they made a “funny ahaha incest joke” like seriously wtf. the story of the striga in particular should be taken seriously imo because of how rawly the tragedy is depicted... this is probably why it’s one of my least favorite short stories... its so sad and also incest disgusts me horribly

for renfri i feel like she was just sooooo ... more “likable” as a character, a lot like how yennefer’s character was changed. you feel feelings of pity and curiosity towards her rather than actually being intimidated by her. renfri in the books actually made me so mad because i think she represents something like what ciri goes through across the saga, just how when you have the choice on how to respond to your abuse, you can easily become consumed with revenge, and i think renfri made me think of myself in that way so i really disliked it when they changed this terrifying raw aspect of her anguish and hunger for retrubution that made her lose her humanity into like, more of a palatable manner of killing... it really was just “girl with sword” and it was so boring. the lesser evil literally makes my stomach turn and that’s why i only read the story like once as well...

also to return to fringilla, i liked mimi and i thought she should have been cast for yennefer instead maybe.... i just was really upset at how much they changed fringilla’s character in the writing to be a “generic evil villain” when in the series she actually is kind of unique in my opinion. she is like, not allied at all with the main characters, but ends up saving both yennefer and geralt’s lives. she’s not good or bad, she’s not super loyal to the empire but she is still nilfgaardian/beauclairoise, and she just exists as a character and that’s why i actually like her in the books (asides from all of the unnecessary library nonsense). i thought mimi could have handled that complex role really well but they totally took that away from her and just made her a flat boring forgettable “evil” character that does “forbidden black magic” and is super loyal to an empire that brought her purpose because yennefer was mean to her once or smth ig... yeah ok. also i fucking hate how they had cahir of all fucking people order her around. idk how old cahir is supposed to be in netflix because he’s obviously not like 16-20 as he would be in canon during this time period, but to have him be the boss of fringilla... that is dumb as hell. i just try and think about that ever occuring with books verse cahir and fringilla and i think she would smack him off of his horse and into the mud. she’d tell assire and assire would get mawr to drag him off by his ear as he tries not to cry. also of course i hate cahir’s casting and the fact that they showed his face. why. it ruins like every message that his character had...

oh also because i HAVE to talk about it. i hate how they tried to make jaskier more masculine/boyish with not giving joey a wig or flamboyant setting-appropriate garb, i think they are allergic to men with long hair that’s not a grime, dirt-covered mess... literally just give half of the production wigs or better wigs i swear to god ... also like this is totally for another post but i don’t think making jaskier a flirt is inherently misogynistic like he acts in the books at times. like just write the misogynistic bits out and it’s fine... flirtatiousness is not evil when it’s consensual and appreciated ... i think they just really wanted geralt to be the one that gets large amounts of p*ssy because he’s muscular or w/e and jaskier became this sort of helpless annoying barnacle on his side instead of a real character and friend to him. and to bring this point back to the main point , i think character appearance really affects their characterization: jaskier in twn has short, boyish hair with no facial hair, which makes him look kind of juvenile, jaskier in the books has curly long hair with some light facial hair, which kind of brings up ehhh what would you call it... 70s casanova energies maybe, a man that puts oils in his hair and such, male thottery...

#the witcher netflix #anon #ask

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