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hardyimagines · 5 years

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Brace’s Niece — Part 1

Your mother passes away and you have nowhere to go except for to your Uncle Brace. James Delaney doesn’t want you living in his home unless you’re going to help out with chores and whatnot. Things heat up between you and James ( inevitably ) and you keep it a secret from your Uncle. — Requested

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October 15

The large windows were murky, foggy from the relentless rain that seemed to have poured every day that week. The pane was cracked, stained, and unfixable, but it was still a nice place for James to look out and inspect the surrounding city. He rolled the egg, he cradled, around lazily in his palm, savoring the momentary halt of the rainfall. Squinting out at the city, he pursed his lips before looking over his shoulder toward the clutter on the table. He was waiting for Brace to wake up to tend to the mess that the man had left the previous night. Brace had taken up drinking within the last week — drowning himself in liquor and he’d been a lot more quiet than usual. James could tell there was obviously a weight residing on the man’s shoulders, but what that weight was — he didn’t know. With that thought in mind, he made his way toward the table with an evident frown and slowly began to clean up the mess. It was Brace’s job to keep things tidy, but because of their long-term relationship, he supposed it was his job to look out for the man as well. He pushed the egg in his hand passed his lips, devouring it easily before he dusted his hands off on his trousers and reached for the cups. Pinching the rim of the alcohol-smudged glasses, he lifted them from the table and carried them to the sink. Cutting on the hot water, he watched as the filth was rinsed from the dish. His blue eyes remained locked on the cup, unmoving from it as he momentarily lost himself in his thoughts.

“Don’t have to clean up after me, boy.” Brace’s voice cut in suddenly, drawing James out of his momentary trance. The older man shakily lifted the opened bottle of whisky on the table before reaching for the cap so he could seal the basically-empty bottle closed. He let out a grumble of dissatisfaction before taking the bottle to the cupboard and tucking it away.

James shifted in his position at the sink before turning off the water and turning to face the man in the corner. “Brace, are you..” He pondered how to ask the question.

“Just fine.” Brace cut in before moving across the kitchen in order to finish up with cleaning out the dishes used. The table was covered in the sticky liquid, spilled from when the man had accidentally knocked over the bottle when he’d drunkenly lifted himself up from the table and made his way off to bed, so he pinched a rag and wet it beneath the faucet before making his way toward the tabletop so he could scrub it.

James didn’t find it necessary to pry. If Brace didn’t want to share what was bothering him.. then he wouldn’t push him to. Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned against it before parting his lips in order to speak again. He could change the topic to a variety of things, so he figured he’d fill the man in on business.

The sound of a harsh knock on the front door silenced James though. His head tipped, craning so that it rotated toward the sound of someone incessantly hammering their fist against the wood. There was no pause or hesitation, just a repetitive, agitating sound. Brace moved around the table with a quiet ‘I’ll get it’, before vanishing from the room. He hobbled, hurrying along the wood floor until he reached the door. His wrinkled fingers wrapped around the squeaky handle. Rotating it, he hauled the wood open and the second he did, it felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, sucking all the much-needed oxygen from his lungs. He knew instantly why you were there.

You were stood on the porch with sticky cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your body shivered as the cold wind whipped around you, blowing your hair in one direction before it blew into your face. You let out a quiet huff before shoving the strands away from your eyes and stepping forward. Your uncle was stood with his hand on the door, lower lip quivering as he inspected your frail-looking form.

This had been expected. There was no surprise in either of your gazes, no confusion, or curiosity. Brace opened his arms, urging for you to pile into them. You did so hurriedly. Burying yourself in his embrace, you clutched on to him tightly, fingertips curling in the fabric of his shirt. He stunk of whisky and cigars, but it didn’t bother you. It was just a bit strong. Brace held you for a few moments, staring at the floor while he racked his brain for something to say. Nothing came to him.

His sister, your mother, had died. She’d been ill for quite some time and recently that sickness had just gotten worse and worse. It was incurable. And her death was inevitable. Brace had gone around to visit her, but he was the last person she wanted to see. Family drama had led to a dent in their relationship and they hadn’t been talking much before she fell bed-ridden. He drank to fill the void that losing his sister had created. He’d lost her before she’d lost her life and now — now he had a mourning niece to look after. You didn’t have anywhere else to go. There was nobody else alive in the family. You hadn’t had a job because you’d been taking care of your mother. Brace understood completely why you’d come to him and he had no intentions of turning you away.

“What’s this?” A new voice hit your ears. It was deep, harsh, drenched in a threatening tone more than an inquiring one.

Brace released you so that he could twist around to inspect the man. His fingers lifted to his stubble, scratching it shyly before he moved forward and toward James, leaving you in the opened doorway.

The man, James, who stood a few feet away, was tall — much taller than you. He had facial hair, trimmed, neat. It made him look older than he probably was. You could tell by his soft looking skin and sturdy, strong stance that he was only in his late thirties or early forties. Brushing your fingertips along your stomach absentmindedly, you smoothed down your dress as your eyes continued to rake along his form. He was dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a blue shirt that he had tucked away in the hem of his slacks. His hair was the messiest thing about him, sticking up this way and that. You figured it was probably the result of hat hair.

“James..” Your uncle began to speak. “This is my niece, Y/n. Shes uh...” He didn’t find it necessary to mention the death of your mother. It would only cast an even sadder, gloomier atmosphere.

“I didn’t ask who. I asked what. What is she doing here, Brace?” It was very untimely — your presence. James was under a lot of stress. He had so much work to do. Unwanted guests were not welcome in his home, especially not ones stood in his doorway with fluttering lashes and sweet smiles. This was no place for you to be hanging about.

“She’s just lost her mother.” Brace said firmly. He didn’t want to give his voice the chance to crack or struggle, so he spoke bluntly. “My sister. She had an illness.”

“She died this morning.” You chimed in. “I’m here because I have no other place to go.. I’ve come to see Brace, and unfortunately for you, that means I’ve had to come to your home.” Your eyes latched on to the icy blue ones that threw daggers your way. You didn’t know a thing about James Delaney. You didn’t go out much or hear the stories everyone spread. Brace rarely ever talked to you about anything apart from your mother so.. there you stood, with a brave face and an even braver stance. You felt the urge to cry. Being strong in a time of need was difficult. Facing a man — defending your presence.. it was far from what you needed to be doing right now. Mourning was all you should’ve been doing. It was hard to cry though, you’d been crying for the last few weeks — you’d been crying all day long. It felt like there were no more salty teardrops left to escape your tear ducts.

“Sorry to hear that.” James was blunt. Crass. There was no sincerity in his tone — no tint of an apologetic man. “But. This is no place for a girl such as yourself, so,” He moved to the vanity in the corner. Opening one of the drawers, he pinched an envelope, one full of money in case of emergency’s and handed it over to Brace. The thin slip of paper was pinched by the man, briefly considered before James spoke again. “shut the door on your way out.” The hollow thudding from his boots signaled his retreating footsteps.

Brace twisted around. Gripping your hand gently, he drew you into the house’s momentary chill before nudging the door shut with his boot. “You can go in the sitting room, sit by the fire and warm up. I’m going to go talk to him.” He released your hand reluctantly before turning on his heel to set off in search of the bastard. You made movement to stop him, to explain that you could leave because you didn’t want to be a hassle.. but instead, you made your way through the doorway to your left and into the warm room. Two sofas sat parallel to one another with a coffee table perched in the center. The fire lit majority of the room, orange hue falling on the length of anything in its path. You shivered deliciously before making your way toward the glowing heat.

Brace made his way down the lengthy corridor and into the back of the creaky old house. Pushing the ajar door open fully without so much as a knock, the man stood in the doorway with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. “I can’t turn her away.” He started without even alerting James of his presence. “I’m the only family she’s got left.”

James’ back was to the door. His hands were laid flat against the widespread sheet of paper he had displayed on the desk. He barely turned his head to the side, ear directed toward Brace — the only sign that James was even listening.

You shifted in front of the fire. Your cold hands pressed against the damp fabric of your dress. The end of the material was soaked from where it had dragged through the puddles of water. It wasn’t ruined.. but it was certainly filthy. A thorough wash was sure to do the trick though. Your hands curled even tighter in your dress, fisting in it as you ogled the flame before you. If you didn’t think about something apart from your mother, you’d drown in the sadness that swam within you. It felt like you’d caught your own sickness. People suffered from heartbreak, didn’t they? Heartbreak could kill. You’d just lost your best friend.

The muffled voices from down the hall grew louder, but no clearer. It was impossible to distinguish what was being said, but maybe you weren’t trying hard enough. Did you really want to hear the man, with the intimidating aura, tell your uncle that you weren’t welcome to stay in his home? Your lips pursed. You supposed you could live without eavesdropping on their conversation. Instead, you let your eyes fall away from the fire to instead inspect the carvings on the coffee table. They were etched into the wood by something sharp, but it wasn’t meant to be there — it looked like something someone had done after purchasing the thing. Maybe James Delaney had a habit of picking at wood. The furniture was ruined on the corners, picked and pried at.

“Just for the month.” Brace’s voice was very clear. “She can help me around the house, at least until she finds a more suitable job. I promise she won’t be any trouble.” Your eyes fluttered shut, nerves swimming in your belly.

“Alright.” The other voice was harsh. It was evident James was only agreeing so he could shut Brace up. The voice made your hairs stand on end. “But if she gets in my way, just once, she’s out of here.”

A loud slam pulled your focus to the hall. Craning your neck around in order to inspect who the heavy footsteps belonged to, you squinted in the slightest — as if that would help you figure out who loomed by the door. His shadow danced across the doorframe, a dark figure, impossibly void of any detail. You swallowed thickly before mustering up the courage to inquire if it was Brace stood in the hall.

You could tell, when the left foot entered the room before any other part of the body did, that it wasn’t Brace coming into the room. The shoe was much bigger, cleaner, nicer, too affordable for your uncle.

The air in the room was tense — uncomfortable. James Delaney was stood in the corner with his hands grazing his trousers. He was momentarily silent, running over the many, many ways he could approach you. His blue eyes lifted to you, curious to know if you were ogling him. He came to the conclusion, quite quickly, that you were.

You wondered if he was here to talk to you, but you made no movement to speak to him. The room remained silent, awkwardly lonely even though the pair of you occupied the small space. James made his way forward and toward the coffee table. On the corner, a closed book with a folded slip of paper resided. It caught your eye only now, as he leaned over to lift the novel. He tucked it away beneath his elbow, clasping it against his rib cage before he tipped his head toward you in the slightest and turned around to leave the room.

A breath, that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, left your lips. “Mr.. James?” You whispered out breathily. It shocked you just as much as it shocked him.

He halted in place. Tonguing his cheek momentarily, he slowly turned around to face you. “Mh?”

You shifted on the sofa before slowly rising from your seated position. It was an attempt to seem somewhat more courageous than you actually were. Facing the man who was ogling you with an inquisitive stare, you merely sent him a very light smile before struggling to find the words you could feel building in your throat. Thank you? “I won’t be any trouble.” You assured him quietly.

A low grumble of consideration left him. His blue eyes took the time to scrutinize you. You didn’t look like trouble.. and that wasn’t what he was worried about. You had soft-appearing skin. Warm eyes. A pretty smile. Your hair was pinned up and out of your face, visibly curly, he could tell because of the stray strands that dangled beside your ears. He looked no lower than your face, uninterested in your attire or the way you fidgeted in front of him nervously. Your hands wrung together, stomach churning queasily as he held your gaze unbothered. “I have no doubt about that.” He tipped his head once before twisting back around and leaving the room.

October 22

The house was filthy. The floorboards were coated in a thick layer of dust. Spiderwebs lurked in the largest corners of the home, out of reach in high places that would require a ladder in order to clean up. The dishes in the sink were beginning to pile up and the house seemed to hold a dark, gloomy atmosphere. No matter how many times the curtains were drawn open in order to let in some natural light, it did nothing to brighten the gray home. The foggy city had no visible sun, therefore no bright rays to cast down, through the opened windows.

The skin of your knees was turning bright red from your position on the floor in the kitchen. You scrubbed, seemingly angrily, at the wood, doing your best to wipe up all the stains, dust, and food that was spilled over the length of the previous week. Brace was slacking. He didn’t ever want to do anything. Cleaning was the last thing on his mind. All he did now was perch himself down on the sofa in the living room or a chair in the kitchen and drink until he could hardly remember his first name. You didn’t mind taking over the chores, but it was a big house. There was so much to do. And a lot of it hadn’t been tended to in what appeared to be forever. The spider webs had probably been gathering for months. The floorboards in the corridor were coated in thick layers of ash and crumbs.. you were sure the living room would look just the same if the large rug weren’t in place. Heaving a loud sigh, you pushed yourself up and off of the ground so you could wash your hands in the sink. The ground didn’t sparkle, but it certainly wasn’t as dirty as it had been a few hours ago. Brushing the back of your hand along the length of your sweaty forehead, you let out a heavy breath. It was so hot in the big house. Even with the window open in the corner, allowing the heavy, cold wind to rush through, you were sweating. But hard work always left a person feeling hot, you knew it was just becayse you were constantly doing something.

James made his way into the kitchen, quiet as per usual. He offered a quiet grunt of acknowledgment before carefully stepping over the wet ground. One wrong move and the dirt that clung to the bottoms of his soles would stain the floor once more. His eyes roamed the floorboards, briefly lifting to your own so he could ogle you with a light twitch of his lips. You squirmed in place before leaning back against the counter.

“Does it.. look alright?” Your question made the man’s brows arch. “I mean.. is it clean enough?”

James let out a low grumble before nodding. His thick arms folded over his chest, flexing beneath the thin fabric he wore. “It looks just fine. Better than Brace usually does. He doesn’t actually even bother to clean the floors.” There was a momentary silence — you asking yourself if you were doing too much and him pondering why he was even bothering to stand around and have a conversation with you. He had work to do. “Where is Brace?”

Your soft eyes fell away from his face. Rotating around so that you didn’t have to face him, you grasped the moist rag from the sink and slowly began to wipe down the counters. “Hiding from the grief he can’t seem to get away from.” You told him quietly. “My mother.. she was really angry at him for a long time.” James straightened. “They didn’t have a chance to make up before she died.” An apology resided on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to sympathize with you, which was quite uncharacteristic. Typically he’d brush off the icky feeling of sympathy and offer distractions to a sad person. But this was Brace. A very hard-working, dedicated friend of his. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that the man was feeling down. “He doesn’t want any help, Mr. Delaney. Believe me, I’ve offered it to him. He’s coping.. just slowly, and in his own way.” Licking your lips, you slowly looked in his direction.

James nodded once before making a mental note to avoid any talks of death for a long time. The broad man approached the cabinet in the corner and gently drew the wooden doors open. Reaching inside for a glistening, black mug, he drew the glass out and set it on the counter. Reaching for the hot pitcher of coffee, he ensured he was being careful — avoiding burning himself as he dumped a mugful into the glass. “Do you want a mug?” He inquired, back to you and head tipped south as he made the beverage to his liking.

You shook your head gently before realizing that he couldn’t see you. “No, sir, that’s.. alright.” It felt odd to refer to a man who wasn’t your father as something so.. superior. Sir sounded as if you were addressing a man who held power. Someone well-respected. Or maybe it was just polite to do and you were reading to far into it.

“James is fine.” He murmured. Dipping the silver spoon, he cradled in his hand, into the hot liquid, he began to stir it lazily, breaking down the grains of sugar so they sweetened the bitter, plain, caffeinated drink.

“Is there.. anything in particular that you need finished today? I was going to try and rid of the spiderwebs, but they’re a bit too high for me to reach.” Every word you said was a struggle to hear. Your voice was so delicate and soft, the man felt the urge to bark at you to talk louder — an urge he managed to fight off.

“Nevermind the spiderwebs. They’ll be back wihtin a few days if you even bother knocking them down.” He lifted the mug from the counter and moved toward the table in the center of the room. Lowering himself down at the wobbly surface, he perched himself down on a chair and laid his elbows on the surface of the clean table. “All I need help doing is laundry.” His pointer finger lifted. “Sweeping, dinner, dishes,” He had four fingers raised, counting off the chores. “the plants need to be cared for..” He ogled you under an unwavering stare. “Simple things. If something looks untidy or bothersome, we’ll clean it up.. if it looks just fine or is too difficult to tend to, ignore it. It’s an old house.” He defended. It creaked and moaned daily, floorboards hollow and loose. He wasn’t too worried about the structure or the walls being clean. He didn’t care about the floor being sparkly. A little dust or sweep here and there was fine to avoid tracking crumbs all along the house and letting the annoying, hard pieces embed themselves in his flesh. He hated that more than anything.

Your head nodded to each one of the things he said, making a mental reminder to tend to each of the tasks. Shifting beneath his stare, you shyly brushed wisps of your hair away from your eyes before ushering toward the doorway that led to the corridor. “Well, I’ll get to it.” Smiling sweetly, you tipped your head toward him before practically scurrying from the room.

The man almost smiled against the mug he held to his lips, but he bit back the small expression and instead put his focus into anything other than Brace’s niece.

October 23

“I didn’t mean to break them.” You informed the man you considered to be your boss. The tall bloke was stood at the vanity in the living room. The pads of his fingers delicately traced the broken glasses that were laid out on the surface. “I didn’t realize how wobbly the..” Your voice threatened to give out, wisely attempting to shut you up, but you cleared your throat and stepped closer to James. “dresser is. I was wiping it down and they just fell.”

James looked to his left, head tipping south so he could ogle you. You drew your bottom lip in, suckling on the tender flesh as you shuffled nervously beneath his stare. “Accidents happen.” He uttered before looking back to the glasses. They had belonged to his father and he was sure that if anyone else had broken them, he’d be infuriated. James merely scooped the broken shards into his palm before rotating around on his boot and setting off to dump the contents in the trash. You watched him go, eyes falling to the floorboards which seemed to shake violently beneath his retreating form.

The moment James left the room, Brace stepped into it. He looked exhausted, completely drained. The bags he usually had under his eyes were much darker, impossible to miss. He’d been wearing the same outfit for the last three days and everytime you greeted him, you merely recieved a grunt. Brace lowered his fingers to the button down he wore. The gray fabric was dirty and stained with alcohol, but he didn’t seem to care. He pushed on further into the room before allowing himself to drop down on one of the sofa’s.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been much help lately.” His gruff voice was almost inaudible as he spoke to you. Studying the man under a curious stare, you drew your bottom lip in before moving around the sofa and dropping down directly beside him.

“I don’t blame you for needing a little time to yourself.. time to just be and not do anything. But I hope you’re alright.” The man nodded once to your quiet consoling words.

“Just fine.” He assured you before tipping his head back so he could stare up at the webs that decorated the dark ceiling. “I hope you’re getting on with James well.”

“He’s.. sweet.” You offered. You didn’t know the man well enough to actually know him. You didn’t talk to him much unless it was about chores. “He doesn’t say much.”

Brace nodded. He just wanted to make sure that James wasn’t giving you a hard time. “Well,” The man sighed breathily before patting your hand lightly. “all’s well then. I’ll start helping out from now on. Probably gonna get started with upstairs.” He wasnt in the mood to converse — he just wanted to briefly check up on you.

You knew he was climbing the flight so he could return to his bottle of liquor, but you sent him a warm smile, pretending as if you didn’t know he was continuing to drown himself in the alcohol. It didn’t matter what you said or did, no amount of reassuring words could comfort his heart like the whisky in his room.

James moved back into the living room just as Brace was moving out. You stood, placing your hands on your hips. Ogling the man in the corner as he lifted his heavy coat from the back of the sofa, you watched him intently — curiously. He glanced in your direction, heated beneath your stare. Neither of you spoke at first, before he began to draw the heavy coat over his arms and on to his shoulders.

“I’ll be back in a while.” He grunted shortly before ushering toward you. “Take a break.” He nodded once. That was as kind as he could be. Rotating on his heel, he left the room without so much as a goodbye. Your eyebrows lifted, studying the vacant spot he’d just been stood in before you turned around and resumed cleaning. You didn’t need a break. The work would just pile up. It was a sizeable house.

You cleaned the living room, the kitchen, the guest room, the bathroom, the staircase, and then made your way up the long flight so you could tend to the bathroom upstairs. The mirror was filthy, covered in smudges that you had to scrub in order to remove. James had been gone for hours and it wasn’t your place to, but you were beginning to worry.

Laying the dirty rag on the sink, you turned the nozzle and stuck your hands beneath the ice cold water. Allowing the droplets to soak your dirty hands, you let out a quiet hum before twisting around so you could toss the dirty rag into the bucket in the corner. Laundry. You’d have to do it tomorrow. The sun was gone and the moon was out. Dinnertime had come and gone. Brace was passed out in his bedroom, arms locked around the empty bottle and mouth pressed to the rim. You’d checked on him a few times throughout the day and although he was drunk and quiet, he was as alright as he could be.

The sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut filled the house. You glanced over your shoulder. Pausing long enough to turn off the bathroom light, the bright, glowing bulbs went dark as you left the room. Descending the creaky staircase, your ears twitched and eyes scanned the corridor. There was a trail of blood from the entryway that led to the main room. You could hear muffled groaning, a sound of someone in immense pain.

“Mr. Delaney?” You tried. There was momentary silence. “Mr... James?” Blinking slowly, you stepped down on to the carpet. Avoiding the blood that stained the floor — which would be a heavy, hard job for you tomorrow, you moved into the den. The fire was lit, dancing along the man slumped on the sofa. James looked drained, pale, sick almost. His blue eyes drifted to you, worn and hooded.

“Y/n. Get me Brace.” His words were almost slurred.

“Brace is.. unconscious. He’s been drinking all day.” You whispered before stepping toward him. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your eyes scanned his sweaty skin before dropping to the area he cradled with his hand. The blood was seeping through his shirt. “James..” A harsh, worried whisper escaped you.

“I’m alright.” He narrowed his eyes, as if scolding you for daring to worry about something so pointless. He definitely wasn’t alright, that much was obvious. But you admired his attempt to seem tough and brave at all hours of the day.

“You know it’s okay to admit that you’re not alright?” Lowering yourself down at his side, your tender touch lured his eyes toward the fire. He avoided gazing at you as you placed your hand on his. Pushing it out of the way so you could see the damage done, your eyes widened considerably. Rising from the couch, you left the room without a word. All you’d seen was a long gash of blood, staining his shirt. It was enough information to send you off toward the kitchen to fetch the first aid.

James grumbled incoherently before laying his forearm along the arm of the sofa. Tipping his head back with a low growl of discomfort, he shut his eyes. There wasn’t much peace and quiet before you came scurrying back in.

“I took a few um.. classes for nurses.” You told him quietly as you dropped back down on the cushion at his side. “I can at least clean it and bandage it up if you want.”

You could tell he didn’t want any help. He could tell you yearned to assist him. His eyes drifted back to your features, scanning the plea in your gaze. With a noisy sigh, he pinched the bottom of his shirt and rolled it up to his rib cage. Exposing the wound, he scanned your expression.

“Jesus..” You placed your hand on his stomach. Pushing on him lightly so he would straighten, your fingertip brushed along the red, irritated space that surrounded the actual opening. “That might need stitches.”

“I don’t think I want you poking at me with a needle.” He ground out with gritted teeth.

“I’m not.. I wouldn’t want to risk that. I don’t know how to stitch wounds closed but I can try to numb it. But you need to turn, I can hardly reach you.” Patting his leg as if to tell him to get a move on, you stood. James rotated on the couch, pressing his back against the arm of the furniture. Opening his legs, he grumbled out breathily. This was not ideal. Brace would have a fit if he came in and saw the two of you seated in such a suggestive manner. You rose up from the couch. Allowing him to lay out across the length of the cushions, you slowly lowered yourself down on the floor. James shook his head before moving to stand. He certainly didn’t want you perched on the ground like some sort of —

“Would you be still?” You laid your hand on his chest. “Stop worrying about this and that and just let me clean the wound.” You popped the kit open before drawing out a wipe, cleanser, some numbing cream, and finally a bandage. Kneeling at his side, you drew out the sanitary wipe before slowly pressing it against his stomach. Cleaning the area around the wound, you studied the injury. It wasn’t your business what had happened and you were sure he’d lie if you asked anyway.

“You’re far too gentle.” He pointed out.

“You’re injured. I’m suppose to be gentle.” You told him softly. Your eyes lifted to his own after a few seconds. “Is that.. bad?”

“No.” He didn’t hesitate. “No, I don’t know many women who are still so tender. But maybe it’s just the one’s I’m acquainted with.” His eyes moved to your fingers, watching the way your nimble digits traced his flesh before you sent him a small smile.

“I’m just being careful.. kind. There’s enough anger and meanness in the world, isnt there? Besides, I dont get rough or mad at much.. if anything really.” Your eyes moved from the gash to the kit. Lifting the next wipe because it would clean the actual part of the wound without burning him, you sighed breathily. “Suppose I was mad at god or.. whoever.” You whispered when the silence droned on. “Whoever decided it was my mother’s time to go. She wasn’t the sweetest woman, but I loved her.” James frowned. He tried to think of how to console you, but he found that his mind was blank. He wasn’t use to people opening up to him. “The world is a cruel place. It’s left me all on my own.”

James winced sharply beneath the cool temperature of the wipe. He expected pain, but none came. You had the magic touch. Everything you did to him, he just felt pressure, mild discomfort, but no pain. “You’re not on your own.” He uttered huskily. “What about Brace?”

“He can hardly remember my name after he’s had his visit with that whisky bottle. I don’t blame him, I don’t mind that he has his own way of coping, but..” You tossed the blood-covered wipe on to the package in the corner before grabbing the numbing cream.

“Well, I’m here.” He told you hoarsely. “If you ever need to go to someone.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was offering by telling you that he was there if you ever needed anyone, but he was sure he wouldn’t regret it. You sent him a sweet smile before applying some of the cream to your finger.

“Close your eyes.” You told him softly. At first, he didn’t, but when you made no movement to continue unless he did, he obeyed. His eyes shut and his lips parted, waiting for the inevitable pain he was sure would come. You pressed your fingertip against one end of the wound before slowly dragging it along the gash, all the way to the other side. Hunching over, you blew your breath on to his stomach, cooling the burning which was bound to accompany the numbing ointment. Continuing to blow in order to bring some relief, you looked toward his face. His features were scrunched, an attempt to swallow down the urge to voice his discomfort, but your gentle blow brought some relief. Licking your lips, you applied a different cream, one that wouldn’t hurt him at all because it was more of a protective coat. It would keep out all the bacteria that would no doubt swarm the opened wound. Reaching for the bandage, you sealed the wound closed as best as you could before looking toward his expression.

“Good as new.” You chirped playfully before pushing yourself up and off of your knees. Cleaning up the mess on the floor, you pinched the trash and loaded everything back into the kit. Carrying it back into the kitchen, you tucked the kit back into its rightful place, in the top drawer before moving back into the living room. James was sitting upright, hand rested on the side of his stomach. He felt a lot better than he had when he’d come home but now that he was bandaged up and had some ointment on the wound...

“Thank you.” The words felt foreign to him. “For uh.. helping me.” He stood. Brace hadn’t ever offered to clean his wounds or tend to them. He cleared his throat quietly before slowly moving toward the vanity in the corner. “Take the day off tomorrow. Go out, do something you like.” He told you quietly. “You’re cooped up all day in here. Can’t be good for you.”

Your eyes drifted to him, soft and appreciative. Brushing your hands off on your dress, you shuffled your weight. “Not much to do around here, not anything on my own.” You didn’t feel safe wandering the streets aimlessly without anyone by your side. You heard too many stories of women being attacked and robbed. “Would you like to come along?” Your eyes moved along his face. “You probably need rest for now because of your stomach, but,” you paused momentarily. “maybe next week?”

James wasn’t sure why a ‘yes’ bubbled within him before he even had time to ponder the question. He lifted his hand to his face, scratching at the hair that coated his chin. A light nod and a short grunt were all you received before the man left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

October 30

It was the day before Halloween. James had promised you a day off of work, a day that he would accompany you out and about. He’d kept his word. He’d taken you for lunch and then you’d gone for a nice stroll. Now you were just exploring. It was gloomy and gray, but the rain that had been expected hadn’t fallen. The pair of you were now at a market, set up near the river. Your fingertips traced the jewelry that hung from the racks, priced and waiting to be bought. You had no intentions of purchasing anything, you just liked to look. James hovered close to you, clearing his throat and moving even closer when men would stare in your direction for too long. A few times he’d gone as far as to place his hand on the middle of your back to let the men know you weren’t to be ogled. You weren’t his by any means, but he didn’t like the way the blokes feasted on you with their beady eyes.

The day had been passing by far too quickly. You’d expected it to be awkward because the two of you barely knew each other, but if anything it was easy to talk to him. Fun getting to know him. He wasn’t as tough and rough as he appeared to be — he had a relatively sweet side.

Turning away from the jewelry, you laid your hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly when he looked toward you to ensure you were alright. You were use to men staring — you supposed they all had problems. None of them knew what self control was. You almost rolled your eyes at the though. Men were also pigs. You looked to James. Most of them. Lost in your thoughts, you moved to cross the street without bothering to look in either direction. James was busy purchasing one of the jewels you’d liked. He was trying to be discreet — he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It was only when he turned, tucking the necklace away in his pocket that he saw your bouncing form, crossing the road with no attentiveness to the angry horses coming your way.

“Y/n!” James shouted. His call was muffled, impossible for you to really hear over the shouts of the men, racing after the horses and pleading for someone to grab them. James narrowed his gaze, squinting toward the loose horses which ran at a speed that would trample you instantly. Leaning into the road just enough to where he could grab you, he locked his hand around your arm and pulled you back into the sidewalk. You gasped sharply, body hitting his roughly and just in time to avoid being crushed by the animals that didn’t care if they hit you or not. You whimpered out against him, eyes sliding shut and stomach tightening considerably. You felt like an absolute idiot. Lifting your hands to your face, you distanced from him before turning on your heel and setting off toward a nearby alley. You flushed beneath the stares of passerby’s, silently judging your idiocy for attempting to cross without bothering to examine your surroundings. You dipped into the empty alley and slumped against the wall. James was quick to follow, black coat lifting behind him and carrying in the wind. He pursed his lips before approaching you.

“Are you alright?” He pushed his hand into his pockets, scanning your expression as you tried — and failed — to hide behind your hands.

“Fine.” You whispered. “I guess I got carried away and excited to see the other side of the market.”

“Excitement is good.” He grumbled out. “It’s alright, you just have to be more careful.” He shrugged. “And if you’re shying away from the people staring, trust me, they’ve probably done worse.” He took his place at your side, strong shoulders connecting with the wall as he leaned against it. His words pulled a smile from you. Looking up at him, you cleared your throat quietly. You didn’t speak just yet, so he offered another reason for you to overlook the internal stupidity you felt. “Also, the horses are usually tied to a post, not running lose to wreak havoc and crush women.” That pulled a smile from you. Biting on your bottom lip, you looked toward your feet, basking in the silence before you finally spoke.

“I’ve had a really good day today.” You’d never really been able to venture out and see the markets. Your mother was too ill to go with you so you’d spent all your time inside, caring for her because you didn’t want to leave. Going out on your own and leaving her all on her own — neither of those sounded appealing. But going out with James.. it was very lovely. James grunted quietly. “I hope I didn’t take too much time away from your busy work schedule.” James grunted again.

“No. I wouldn’t have agreed to come along if it would’ve affected me.” His tongue slid along his lips before he turned toward you. “Here.” He reached into his pocket before drawing out the chain he bought for you. “This,” he extended his arm, palm opened so you could see the dangling jewel. “was the one you were looking at. Isn’t it?”

Your jaw dropped. Pushing yourself off of the wall, your hand pressed against his wrist, steadying it as you admired the shiny, red circle. “James, you...”

“I knew you weren’t going to ask.” He murmured. He wasn’t an idiot. He saw you try to ask him four times before you just gave up.

Your eyes lifted to his own. Smiling slowly, your soft eyes trailed along his expression before you moved your free hand to the necklace. Tracing the red jewel, you slowly lifted it from his palm. It was the nicest, most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. “You’re spoiling me.” You teased quietly.

James grumbled out incoherently before kicking his boot against the cobble. Shuffling his weight from foot to foot, he lifted his hand to his cheek and rubbed the stubble that resided there. Peering down at your happy expression, he let his eyes glide along your alight eyes to the curve of your lips. You looked very pretty when you were shining as bright as the hidden sun — so appreciative. So pure.

Without much thought at all, you lifted your small hands to his cheeks, noting his gaze, and leaned up on your tiptoes to press a very short, chaste kiss against his plump lips. You merely meant the small gesture as a way of saying thanks. It was a mere brush of the lips, and neither of you had expected for it to linger, but you didn’t dare distance yourself. You were waiting to see if he would initiate anything further. He let his mouth touch yours again and then once more. His breaths were heavy, hollow, they tickled your upper lip as he exhaled like a tired bull. His lips covered yours for another second and temptation told him to press you up against the wall and kiss you like he suddenly wanted to — instead he drew back a bit sharply. Clearing his throat, he lifted his hand to his tophat and removed it. He cradled the black rim as he scratched viciously at his messy head of hair before placing the cap back in its rightful place. You noted how confused he looked.

“James, I’m sorry.” The whisper was almost inaudible. Internally, you felt like you were on fire. Your skin boiled from the inside out. Trembling in front of the man nervously because you were positive you’d misinterpreted where the situation was going, you lifted your small hands to your face, momentarily cowering away from his bright, icy orbs. Your palms fell away from your face after a few moments though, stomach churning nauseously. “I must’ve misread the.. I thought..” Your lips burned. You wanted to kiss him again. The man was stood much taller than you, seemingly taller when he had such a stern expression on his face. He narrowed his eyes further, squinting as if he were trying to understand what had just happened. You kept looking from his blue eyes to his plump lips, curious to know if he’d enjoyed the little touch or if he’d absolutely hated it. He wasn’t distancing from you by any means. With every inhale, his chest skimmed yours. You could practically feel the internal battle that he was having with himself. His hand lifted, hovering above your hip before he placed it on the curve of your waist and pulled you into him firmly. His touches were nowhere near as tender as yours were, but you didn’t expect them to be. Lifting your hands to the front of his chest, you steadied yourself, head tipping back so you could see him clearly. The nerves in your stomach swam up and into your throat, preventing you from speaking. James parted his lips, allowing them to skim yours again, testing to see if the same fiery emotions simmered in his stomach. They did.

“Brace can’t know.” James told you hoarsely. His voice was quiet, stern, a demand. You nodded once, fingertips gliding north so you could mess with the collar of his shirt. Your breaths mixed as the pair of you stood impossibly close. A little bob of your head was all he’d received. Did he want to kiss again or was he talking about the previous kisses? Your eyes searched his for the answer, but you found nothing. You assumed you were in control of what happened next. It didn’t take you long to decide. Leaning up on your toes so you could reach his lips again, you tugged him against you firmly before closing the space and kissing him.

This time it was just a little deeper. A little firmer. His mouth slanted against yours perfectly, immediately pulling the softest sound from your tight throat as you wrapped him in your arms snugly. His mustache tickled you now and then, but you didn’t dare giggle for you didn’t want the liplock to come to a close. James placed his hand on your lower back, lazily stroking the material of your dress as his mouth connected with your own repeatedly. His breaths were still deep and loud, ragged as he kissed you. It sounded like he’d just been running and now he was out of breath. Placing your hand against the back of his head, you let your tongue skim his bottom lips, a very playful, soft, and slow movement. The man pressed you against the wall securely, trapping you in place with his body.

“James?” A sudden voice filled the alley. It was chirpy, curious. It echoed throughout the hollow space. The man didn’t dare break away from you, he merely continued to try and kiss you, but curiosity pulled at you, forcing you to open your eyes to examine the woman stood at the end of the alley. Your mouth was still on his, tender and slow as he held you close to him. It was only when he began to break the kiss that he looked in her direction. He licked his lips slowly, hand remaining in place on your back as he squinted toward the redhead who’d just interrupted.

“Lorna.” He stated simply. What on earth did she want — and couldn’t it just fucking wait?

———————————————————————

A/N: THERE WLL BE A PART 2 (:

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @chimthighz @baliadelcuore @lonewolf471 @crldrr @keeleyella @overitall2018 @lovebitesimagines @eddieisasnack

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psychosistr · 5 years

Note

quite wondering, what are the regenerations looks of the fearsome four during the events of the rp? [or uhm the crystal duck's regenerations?]just wondering

Well, I’ll leave Megavolt and Bushroot’s designs to you since you have them in the RP, but here’s what I came up with for the others below the cut.

I’ll start with the Crystal Ducks since they have the fewest changes-

Darkwing Duck: Drake starts off looking and sounding like his original Darkwing cartoon-self with the Jim Cummings voice and everything, with the only variations to his outfits being that his super-hero outfit has a pinkish-purple colored star on the back of his cape (the color for the star looks like the color on the under-side of his cape) and he tends to wear baseball caps and other hats with his regular clothes to hide his gemstone.

He’s a pretty durable amethyst, so it takes a lot for him to get poofed- like, he’d need to get hit head-on with a destabilization blast from Yellow Diamond or something. When he does finally get poofed, when he comes back he looks and sounds like his DT17 version, making him seem much younger than before and symbolizing the new start he has now after the truth about the war comes to light. The main changes to his super hero outfit would be that instead of having the star on his back like before, he’d have an outline of the Earth in a very dark purple that would only be noticeable in the right lighting to represent how his loyalty and purpose shifted from his previous allegiance to Rose and her army to the Earth- his new home that he protected from the shadows. He does still care about the Crystal Ducks, though, a fact that is shown by how the underside of his cape would now have a pattern of many small stars outlined all over the inside and would be visible whenever his cape was open.

Launchpad: Similar to Drake, Launchpad’s initial look would be like his original Ducktales/Darkwing Duck cartoon appearance and voice. The only real difference in this would be that his scarf has a golden star on each end and they’ll often overlap or fold over to form a single large star shape when the ends are close together. He had a few forms beforehand, but they were pretty similar since for the longest time he didn’t understand what was happening every time he got poofed and mostly just came back the exact same way he looked before. He got his current form after the first major plane crash he was in after joining the Crystal Ducks and, when he came back, he still didn’t have a full understanding of how changing his form worked, but he was able to figure it out just enough to add the stars to his scarf so he could show that he was on the same team as Darkwing and Gizmoduck.

His klutziness and tendency for crashing result in a few minor reformations throughout the series, but he’s usually pretty quick to come back since he doesn’t put much thought into changing his form. The first time he really decides to change his form, though, is after he comes to fully accept what happened on the Earth and learns to stop blaming himself for the war and how he was created. Wanting a fresh start and to show he now accepted and understood his past, the first major reformation he does in his life results in him looking and sounding like his DT17 version. The major differences this time are that he now shows off the star in a much grander way by having a big golden one on the back of his coat and, as a much smaller nod to how meeting Darkwing changed his life and opened his eyes to the truth about who and what he was, on the inner-brim of his brown chauffeur's hat (I like the way that looks over his baseball cap) there’s an outline of a small purple star that looks like the one Darkwing had on his previous cape- visible only to him most of the time.

Gizmoduck/Gyro & Fenton: Gyro and Fenton remain largely unchanged throughout the series, looking and sounding like their DT17 versions. Their main differences would be that, in the past before they joined the rebellion, their outfits were a lot more formal and neat- looking like black and white suits (Gyro got to have a lab coat with his) with white diamonds on the front to represent their diamond and her court. When they joined the rebellion, though, they got the much more casual and colorful outfits they wear now, with Gyro sporting a black star on the top of his hat and Fenton having a matching one on the middle of his shirt that would be divided if he ever unbuttoned it.

Gizmoduck’s changes in appearance are harder to see because he’s usually wearing his Gizmoduck armor to be ready for battle at any moment. His first appearance is like his original Ducktales/Darkwing Duck version, with the suit receiving a few upgrades over the course of the series and having a star beneath the red symbol on his chest. Without the suit, he looks very different with his head and torso sporting white feathers while his arms have brown ones and he wears Gyro’s glasses when he doesn’t have the suit’s helmet and visor accessible. He doesn’t put much thought into his outfits since he’s rarely without his suit, so most of the time he just walks around in a shirt like Fenton’s that’s only half-buttoned and a pair of pants that look like Gyro’s.

After being poofed and separated by Negaduck, Gizmoduck has his more modern DT17 style suit ready when he reforms- this time with a large golden metallic star on each shoulder in addition to the star beneath the red symbol on his chest. His body this time has Fenton’s brown feathers for the head and torso and Gyro’s white ones for the arms. He still wears Gyro’s glasses when he doesn’t have the visor on, but now he also has Fenton’s hair with a few streaks of white mixed in and the part on the front is like a smaller version of the distinctive swoop that Gyro’s hair has. This time around, he puts a little more thought into how he looks without the armor and has a more solid mix of Gyro and Fenton’s outfits- he wears Gyro’s shirt, vest, and pants, but the shirt is the same color as Fenton’s shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the vest has one or two of the middle buttons done to keep it partially closed, and he wears Fenton’s purple tie.

Gosalyn: Not much to say about Gosalyn’s initial appearance as she mostly looks like her original cartoon version but with the addition of a star on her jersey instead of a number (the star is the same color as the one Darkwing originally has on his cape).

She does, however, go through a change after getting her gem ripped out by White Diamond. When she reconnects with her other half, it’s the closest thing she ever got to poofing, and, feeling for the first time in her life that she had control over her powers and who she was as a person, decided that she wanted to make a change and differentiate herself from her mother. She changed her appearance and now resembles her DT17 version, just with a small star-shaped hole torn over the stomach to expose her gem (which she shifts to stand up straight and have its true shape visible), and her jacket has a mutli-colored star on the back that resembles a color wheel but with fewer gradients and a white outline, symbolizing how she’s grown thanks to all of the gems in her life from her dad to Launchpad and Gizmoduck and even the Fearsome Four.

Okay, now for the Fearsome’s:

Liquidator: Initially, Liquidator is the very image of a perfect homeworld elite. His clothes (which are really just darker or lighter water that move and flow with his body) are a simple but elegant dark blue robe-like uniform with darker trim and a blue diamond insignia on the front to show his allegiance and loyalty to his diamond. His body is originally a lot tougher-looking with broader shoulders and a more stern face (think like the intimidating first look he had when he revealed himself to Darkwing in his debut episode). Similar to Darkwing, Liquidator is very hard to poof due to the nature of his body. To date, he’s only been poofed twice in the RP, with the first time not changing anything.

The second time he gets poofed, however, results in a drastic change to Liquidator’s appearance. Taking place after making the decision to stay on Earth with Bushroot and the rest of his friends, he feels like he’s finally free to relax and be himself rather than the rigid elite homeworld expected him to be. His physical appearance changes to the more relaxed and silly style we’re used to from the cartoons, with the exception of his ears being slightly scruffier and his right eye having two overlapping pupils with one being lighter blue and the other being darker blue (this happened after an exposure to corruption and is a permanent scar on his gem, but he honestly got off easy). His previous uniform look changes to a high-collared blue sleeveless shirt with an ice-blue star on the front (showing his tentative alignment with the Crystal Ducks, but more so the freedom he’s come to enjoy from this planet and his desire to protect that freedom) and darker blue pants with a belt that looks like braided strands of ice with a solid ice-rose for a buckle (symbolizing his love for Bushroot and how their relationship is free to grow on this planet).

Quackerjack: Quackerjack, by far, gets the most wardrobe/form changes to-date for this AU, so I’ll just run down the line.

When he first appears in the story, his outfit most closely resembles his original one from the TV show but with a pink diamond on the front around the gemstone on his chest. However, his gemstone was cracked when he first appeared, so his colors were duller and his eyes had a glassier look to them with a pink tint to match his cracked gemstone. His colors and eyes returned to normal after receiving healing treatments back on homeworld, but that form didn’t last for long.

After being poofed as Goldy on homeworld (he accidentally fused with Megavolt after falling into the peridot’s arms and Liquidator had to act quick and poof them so they wouldn’t be spotted by anyone else), Quackerjack was really depressed when he reformed due to losing his diamond, realizing how long he was trapped in the mirror, and seeing what happened to Paddywhack while he was gone. His colorscheme was a lot heavier on the blue tones with the red and orange colors only popping up occasionally as accents or trim. He also lost the diamond insignia on his chest, as his diamond was presumed dead and her court was disbanded.

His next reformation took place after he was poofed by Gizmoduck while protecting Megavolt. By this point, he had started to move on from his past thanks to his friends and regained the colors in his outfit. However, he did start to make subtle changes such as adding stars along his cowl to hint at a possible change in alignment and the orange in his color scheme was changed to yellow (symbolizing the bond he’s formed with Megavolt).

His most recent form is drastically different from his previous ones, showing how he’s finally let go of his past. The colors on his outfit are still as bright and colorful as ever, but it’s a bit less poofy, marking his shift away from just being seen as Pink Diamond’s jester. He still has a frilled white collar, but it’s much shorter than before, and his cowl no longer has stars in the fabric but the bells each have a small star pattern on them and the cowl’s colors are lighter than that of his shirt. His top now has short flutter sleeves instead of the long ones he wore before and he proudly shows off the star in the middle of his shirt, the star being bright yellow to match the palazzo-style pants that he wears (the bottoms are super long and billowy with glittery pink trim, usually hiding his pink shoes with purple flowers on the toes).

If he goes through another major poofing after some more information is revealed about pink diamond, his appearance will likely change again and have the reds in his color scheme be replaced with pinks to show his past and his eternal loyalty and love for his diamond without the blind devotion he had before, but still staying with the colors of those he cares about like Megavolt’s yellow, Liquidator’s blue, and some purple or green accents to represent Bushroot.

@abbythegamergirl you can do your descriptions for Bushroot and Megavolt if you want, or people can just check out the pictures you’ve drawn of them to get a basic idea.

#Drake Mallard #darkwing duck #launchpad mcquack #gizmoduck #gyro gearloose #fenton crackshell cabrera #Gosalyn Mallard #liquidator #quackerjack #some of these ships mentioned:#drakepad #fenro #liquiroot #quackervolt #steven universe!au

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johnnymundano · 5 years

Text

Fear in the Night (1972) (AKA Dynasty of Fear and Honeymoon of Fear)

Directed by Jimmy Sangster

Screenplay by Jimmy Sangster and Michael Syson

Music by John McCabe

Country: United Kingdom

Running time: 94 minutes

CAST

Judy Geeson as Peggy Heller

Ralph Bates as Robert Heller

Joan Collins as Molly Carmichael

Peter Cushing as Michael Carmichael

James Cossins as The Doctor

Gillian Lind as Mrs. Beamish

John Bown as 1st Policeman

Brian Grellis as 2nd Policeman

(I watched Fear in The Night on a StudioCanal blu-ray. The picture was perfectly fine, but not “Holy Mother of Pearl!” amazing. But I doubt the movie has ever looked better)

Fear in The Night is a neat enough Hammer thriller (as opposed to a neat enough Hammer horror) from their 1970s Going Downhill period, as the studio tried to accommodate the tastes of a rapidly changing society while not altering very much about their product, and continuing to spend less and less with every movie. Surprisingly often ‘70s Hammer’s answer to this thorny art versus commerce conundrum would be to just stick some tits in. Thankfully Hammer doesn’t do that here, instead they opt for a twisted thriller riffing on the French suspense classic Diabolique (1955), with a subtle hint of Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca. But, you know, with Joan Collins and, the eternally camptastic Joan Collins aside, imbued with all the everyday glamour of the 1970s; which is to say all the glamour of the aftermath of a chip pan fire.

This penny pinching presentation of the ‘70s milieu turns out to be Fear in the Night’s secret weapon in its arsenal of entertainment. Movies like this probably looked cheap on release (fair enough, because they were cheap movies) but several decades on the financial inability to cinematically accentuate mundane reality provides a wonderful glimpse of a time mostly past. (Admittedly there remain odd pockets of the 1970s in the UK to this day, but that’s another story.) While I love watching these things for all the usual reasons, I also enjoy the no frills historical accuracy of them. (See also: Amicus and Trigon movies.) An accidental bonus of budgetary miserliness, perhaps, but a bonus nonetheless. Early on before Fear in the Night settles into its cramped arena of psychological combat there’s a particularly great bit at a motorway service station, where you can see that they once sold 12” LPs in spinner racks; on your way to see Aunty Maud, why not pick up the new Peters and Lee platter? Weird stuff, but apparently true. This is only rivalled by the man in the background when Judy and Ralph are in the car park; this unknown guy comes out of the Gents and is captured forever on film checking his fly. Cinéma doesn’t get much more vérité than a guy reflexively checking his cock’s not hanging out.

But why are Ralph Bates and Judy Geeson in a car park at a Granada motorway service station? (I just checked and there are still Granada motorway service stations; I did not know that.) It’s because Ralph and Judy are playing newlywed couple Robert and Peggy, on their way to the boys’ boarding school Robert teaches at. Their fragrant wedded bliss hit a recent road bump when Peggy was possibly attacked by a home invader with a prosthetic arm. Or possibly not; Peggy doesn’t seem the full shilling right from the start. Whatever did or didn’t happen has left Peggy in a somewhat sensitive state which imminent plot developments will do nothing to soothe and everything to aggravate. The pair move into a small house near the main school building and Peggy meets the headmaster, the confusingly named Michael Carmichael (Peter Cushing), and his wife Molly (Joan Collins). All you need to know about Molly is that she is played by 1970s Joan Collins; ergo she is a nasty piece of work under all that make-up. Michael Carmichael is a bit harder to get a grip on, partly because he is played by Peter Cushing who always finds nuances in his characters his scripts rarely deserve. He’s the best thing in Fear in the Night, but then he’s the best thing in most things that have “Peter Cushing” in the cast list. Yes, including Star Wars (1977). Actually, especially Star Wars (1977). Peter Cushing isn’t in Fear in the Night much, but he’s in it enough for him to create a character who can twitch from affable gent to spaced out creep in the blink of an eye and still leave you undecided as to whether or not to trust him. It’s called acting, darling.

Besides the ever potent screen presence of Peter Cushing, everyone else in the intentionally claustrophobically tiny cast is good value too. Joan Collins is Joan Collins, which is why they cast her, I guess. Ralph Bates has fun being too good to be true, before revealing he is in fact too good to be true. (Not really a spoiler unless you’ve never seen a movie; see further down the page.) Mostly though we chez Mundano were distracted by his appearance. Throughout Fear in the Night Ralph Bates is a kind of variable orange colour with some dusky eye shadows, courtesy of make-up according to my Life Partner; I thought he was just olive skinned and maybe had a bit of Mediterranean in the branches of his family tree. And I may have the edge since Wikipedia tells me Ralph was of French parentage and was (get this) the great-great grandson of Louis Pasteur. There’s a fun Hammer Fact for you; no charge. The core of Fear in the Night, however, is Judy Geeson, who is unrelated to Louis Pasteur as far as I know, but, luckily for audiences everywhere, successfully portrays a woman slowly coming so unstuck she can’t even trust her own senses. Hysteria simmers under the surface of each of her scenes, at least in those scenes where her hysteria isn’t stealing the scene wholesale.

Oh yes, female hysteria is front and centre in this one. Fear in the Night has a typically balanced 1970s approach to the ladies; one’s a brassy shrew and the other is a hysterical girl-child. In case anyone wanted reassurance about how far we’ve come since 1972 gender-wise, Fear in the Night also has a lot of people telling Peggy and Molly how pretty they are, like they are delicate little dolls, and there’s not a few “Oh, those silly ladies and their silly emotions!” reactions to Peggy’s increasingly frenzied appeals for help against her apparently phantom assailant. The only reason no one seeks to blame it all on her “time of the month”, I suspect, is that the ‘70s was still struggling to come to terms with female biological functions. Part of Peggy’s problem is getting men to take her seriously; which is fair enough, as part of any woman’s problems in the 1970s was getting men to take her seriously. In the 2010s men take women seriously; but they hate them for it. But shhhh, it’s a secret.

There are a lot of secrets at play in Fear in the Night, some obvious and some surprising but can Peggy survive their unveiling? You will, naturally, have already twigged what’s going on as soon as Joan Collins turns up shotgunning rabbits and patronising Peggy to within an inch of her life. But, and this is the clever bit, Fear in the Night knows you know this. The initial reveal is so defiantly perfunctory it acts as a kind of slap in the face to your complacency, and then Fear in the Night kicks you in the kidneys with the stuff you weren’t expecting. Basically, don’t organise that ticker tape parade to celebrate your own cleverness until Fear in the Night’s credits roll. Despite Jimmy Sangster’s smart plotting relying heavily on a prosthetic arm, Fear in the Night still has room for a couple of enjoyably nifty tricks up its sleeve. If all else fails; it’s got peter Cushing in. And you can’t argue with a bit of The Cush. And that’s another Hammer Fact; no charge.

#Movies #Horror #Thriller #Hammer #Fear in the Night #Dynasty of Fear #Honeymoon of Fear #Jimmy Sangster #Judy Geeson #Ralph Bates #Joan Collins #Peter Cushing #The 1970s #1972

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lynxgriffin · 6 years

Text

Straight Outta Monster Narnia

HEY HEY I WASN’T EXPECTING TO DO THIS EVER AGAIN BUT WE’RE BACK

I’M GONNA PLAY ME SOME DELTA RUNE HERE

THOUGHTS AS I GO! ARE UNDER THE CUT!

Here we GOOOOOOO~!

Survey Program! Nice! Ominous!

I am here yes!

Truly excellent dude

OH MAKING A VESSEL NOW what are we Xehanort

NEATO I can pick Chara or Frisk heads or others…

Let’s do someone new. This kinda longish hair head.

STRIPES FOR DAYS! Longish sleeves, methinks

The legs are almost all the same LMAO

This is so friggin creepy I l OVE IT

Favorite food is PAIN nah it’s soft

BLOOD TYPE D. D for DOGGO

You have been gifted with kindness, not-XionFrisk

Pain AND seizure. Kinda wonder what happens if you say no tho…

But I don’t want to start over so let’s go with yes

OH FRIGGIN BUUUUURNED BY THE GAME, HAHAHA

Hi Toriel, you’re looking nice!

That’s a lot of friggin trophies over there

Also Kris, you need some eyes

RELIGIOUS SKA

So we have overachieving perfect child and sad boring child, okay

Awww Gerson wrote a book! How neat

It’s only you…..FOR NOW!!!!

It just isn’t home without white fur stuck in the drain, is it

CHAIRIEL’S RETURN!!!!

Also there’s some weird graphical flicker going on when I move and I wonder if it’s not because I’m playing full screen here

“Spray For The Boys, Flamin’ Hot Pizza Flavor” Damn Toby I missed your incredible sense of humor

DOES TORIEL USE PET SHAMPOO please say yes

ASRIEL’S AT COLLEGE AND UNDYNE’S A POLICE MONSTER, PERFECT

PROFESSOR ALPHYS IMMA GET AN A+ IN ANIME CLASS

DAMN who do I pick as my partner

Like…I really want Temmie…but also Snowdrake…

Random snake is also very good…

Ahhh I see this is gonna be pre-determined

HAHAHAHA FUCKIN BURNED AGAIN BY THIS HORRIBLE BLUE DUCK

Thank you cool snake I love your origin story

Oh this reindeer girl is very cute

MOTHA. FOKKIN. SUSIE

I instantly love her, goodbye

Oh Alphys you’re so not good at putting anyone in trouble

I JUST REALIZED TEMMIE HAS HER EGG ON THE DESK

Susie are you eating chalk

Oh sheet I like Susie less now

GAH DAMN THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

Susie, Kris doesn’t even HAVE a face

Haha totally cut off my answer there

Hmm. I sense…a theme here.

Wow this really is putting on the restrictive aspects here

Now that’s a spooky face

Oh it ain’t gonna be that simple, mean girls

Well, this sure seems like an underground! Also…Kris is green now, okay

Hi there creepy waving things!

To reiterate: this is soooo creepy AND I LOVE IT

Puzzles! We got puzzles again! CREEPY PUZZLES

Whelp, we found Susie, just kinda hiding out in a…dead dust bunny thingie

LOL so much for a party member following you around

Well this is a new and interesting take on the bullet hell mechanics

Such interesting and different architecture

THE KINGDOM OF DARKNESSSSS

Yes let’s take a sudden HARD SHIFT into Final Fantasy

THE QUEST OF THE DELTA KNIGHTS that was an MST3K ep you know

About like…Leonardo da Vinci actually. Except he was a whiny bitch

LMAO Susie just “nah destroying the world sounds neat”

JOKESTER SANS GLIDES IN A FLAMING TRICYCLE SURE WHY NOT

VERY DIFFERENT COMBAT SYSTEM

“Dunno how I got an ax but like, that’s cool”

CAN’T WAIT FOR THE REMIXES OF THIS BATTLE MUSIC OKAY

Dunno if there’s a pacifist version of this game but I stick to tradition so I’m gonna try it

RALSEI. I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE

THE POWER OF FLUFFY BOYS SHINES WITHIN YOU it sure as hell does, game

The heckin heck Ralsei is so cute

Yup yup we gonna try pacifist this first time!

“If you’re reading this…I guess you’re dead.” Fair enough.

Gaster noises when trying to use the cell phone, hmmmm…

It’s an inverse papou fruit!

Susie just up and attacks this cake, all right

Battle is cool but it’s gonna take some getting used to, think I accidentally used both of my items

YOUR SENSE OF DIRECTION WON’T SAVE YOU NOW

“It’s like a dinner made out of three glasses of milk” Ralsei you’re SO CUTE

Now to see if TP stays leveled between battles…

“I thought you were running away.” / “Yeah, I finished.”

Fugdamn I want —pictures of Spiderman— remixes of this music ON MY DESK TODAY

FRIGHTENING FANFARE

Damn that puzzle still is tricky

Gah damn that was hilarious but also terrifying

We have the power of FLUFFY BOYS and MEAN GIRLS we are UNSTOPPABLE

Ohhh so that’s what the heart outline does!

Now that is a coooool cat and I like him already

Awww I don’t have enough money for the spooky sword

Susie just roastin’ everybody left and right

THEY GOT BARRY

These mechanics continue to be interesting and a bit more complex

“Damn, didn’t get to impale myself” I’m sure you’ll get your chance Susie

It’s really interesting how we’re basically group-battling to PREVENT the tank from beating the crap out of everyone

Oh now that light trick is weird

They keep throwing the usual chess and playing card guys at us and somehow I’m Suspicious

Is that a bucket. ARE Y’ALL HOMESTUCKING AT ME AGAIN

LMAO did Susie call us the Fuckboys or something

Oh, the Shit Squad, I guess!

THE POWER OF THE SHIT SQUAD SHINES WITHIN YOU HECK YESSSS

“I, Mr. Society, am far too intelligent to ever bow down to such a tyrant!” Hmmm.

Oh, it’s Sir Lion Plateface again

L E G S

THE BOSS JUST DRINKS A GALLON OF MILK THAT’S FINE

Well Ralsei got kinda junked there but WE DEFEATED SIR LION PLATEFACE

Cakes…are also my enemy…

Yeeeeah kinda saw that one coming

Susie I get the feeling you’re not going to enjoy being a bad guy either

Dang son I have no clue what’s going on anymore WE JUST HAD SOME SALSA IN A TREE STUMP

This jack’s got my number

That sure is a three-eyed three-headed cat thingamajig

Awww I like Clover

“All proceeds go to kicking your ass” CAN I USE THIS LINE IN REAL LIFE PLEASE

Hot damn we just squeaky hammered our broken cake into ULTIMATE CAKE

Why does a sweet little boy have a mustache indeed.

Create a machine to thrash your own ass, nice

It’s my beautiful death laser duck! Tops in GUN’S

Man Susie and Lancer are just having the time of their lives here

Finally, respect for pinecone-eaters!

Awww Susie, are you actually starting to worry about someone who respects your eating of chalk and pinecones

Oh thank goodness, got through that maze thing

Yes, finally, it’s our DUCK TANK LASER

Why does it say Tuna on it

“Your design sucked so we blew it up” This is like that one Berlin tour guide I had

GANGED UP ON THEM WITH KINDNESS, HA

Whelp, back to telling enemies that Susie will kick them in the shins I guess!

YES LANCER JOIN THE SHIT SQUAD

OMFG THAT FAAAAACE WHAT IS THAT FACE

Hey we’ve got a full Final Fantasy team now! Neat

STOOL FORME

I like how Lancer just sliiiiiides around outside the party instead of walking with

Hmmm well that friendship feeling didn’t last long

You done got locked in the dungeon

Yup sure did eat that jail moss two minutes in

HUH, we’re controlling Susie now

In which choices do not matter…

SUSIE’S FOKKIN PISSED

And we can’t control her actions…but why controlling the human soul?

A pair of eyes got arrested?! What IS the world coming to?!!

Oh dear, we found a bunch of kings in baby jail

Why are these filthy cages so happy-looking

Awwww Susie joined the party for realizes!

So, this about final boss point for this business?

Why are you guys just sitting on a pile of loot

And just who is this sassy lost child?

BAAHAHAHAAA

HECK YEAH WE GET TO FLIRT AGAIN

I am now BED INSPECTOR yes

Hello again fancy blue boy

“Can…can we see it” / “No.”

This sure is a jammin party with CLUB MUSIC OH HO HO HO

Awww he put his bicycle to bed

‘Welcome to my shop, you ungrateful worms” HELL YEAH

I do not wisheth to hear your MP3s! I would rather listen to the sweet song of Death!

Prepare for a battle with…WHATEVER THIS IS!!!!

JUST FUGGIN CHUCK RALSEI AT SIR LION PLATEFACE, I LIKE IT

Six dollars, for all of that?! Geez

WHELP this looks like final boss time…

Hiiiii there Lancer

Oh dang is gettin serious now

Oh woooow that’s…someone’s fetish right there

HOKAY that was tricky but! Having the defense abilities certainly helped with pacifism through that…

Despite ending this peacefully, I don’t think this scene is gonna end on a happy note…

W H E L P

DAYUM that face from Susie!!

Awwww poor Ralsei

We only have BAD-byes WUAH WUAH WUAAAH

DAWWW lil’ Asriel-lookin dude with glasses (and YES I see that anagram there)

LMAO Susie’s face

EPIC ROCK MUSIIIIIC

Also I’ve really been enjoying the color effects

Awww look at this epic adventure you two had in the closet

So basically we went to Monster Narnia, neat

Awww Susie likes Monster Narnia

Oh no we worried Toriel! THE WORST

LIBRARBY

YOU STUDY THOSE HOT DEMON COMICS FOR COLLEGE, TEMMIE

Hiiii Toby you busy makin’ something!

ALPHYS NO, YOU BETRAY MEW MEW KISSY CUTIE

OFFICE UNDYNE, DOn’T ARREST ME

I like reindeer girl’s rowdy hospitalized dad

PARTY ANIMAL TORIEL CONFIRMED

I like how there’s just a poster on the wall in this room that reads PAIN

The police tape simply reads NGGAAAAAHHHHH!

Good grief there’s SO MUCH STUFF TO EXPLORE HERE BUT I HAVE TO KEEP GOING

Snowdrakes don’t have arms, oh no!!!

“Does it hurt to be made of blood??” ….Yes. Yes it does.

HIIIIIIIII SANS

Woah woah woah WOAH WOAH SANS

Everyone is here! Even Ice Wolf!

Yes I’ll take a Double Ice Pizza you weirdos

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD IT’S BURGERPANTS

10 OUT OF 10 GAME NOW

HIS FACES!!!! “C H I C K S”

That was brilliant, Burgerpants, thank you for existing

Catty!!! Hey where’s Bratty!

Noooo you gotta be besties with Bratty!

Brother Doug…?

Oh no, Mettaton, come out and talk to us!

ASGORE, HELLO

OMG Asgore hugs

Soul flowers….???

Awwww got some flowers for Toriel

THE GAY GUARDS IN THEIR GAY FLANNEL, YAY

It’s so late but I can’t stop until I’ve talked to LITERALLY EVERYONE

Thaaaat’s politics! …Rarely.

Comes to church for the fruit juice, sounds about right

DOG GRAVE, NO

Let’s go into the woods…what could go wrong…

Why can’t I get into the creepy shed…

Well, I think I got everything, so let’s go home now…

ASRIEL MAINS YOSHI IN SMASH CONFIRMED

Awwww Toriel is not big on Asgore’s bouquet!

OKAY decided to go to sleep here.

…Well that didn’t work out great

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

UUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WHAT??????????

WHAT????????????

WHAT?????????

HAHA I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE FUK HAPPENED IN ALL OF THIS BUT UH. WHEN’S CHAPTER TWO??

THAT SURE WAS A HELL OF A THING

No really Toby please WHAAAAAAATTT

OKAY I HOPE I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING IMPORTANT BYYYYEEEE

#undertale #delta rune #lynx plays delta rune #lynx plays undertale #undertale spoilers #delta rune spoilers #scheduled this so it posted after the no spoilers rule so hopefully that works out #NO PLEASE WHAT HAPPENED HERE I STILL HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS #also I NEED MUSIC REMIXES NOW #also also so uh #EXPECT ART IN THE FUTURE #SORRY I CAN'T HELP MYSELF #including doing the running commentary thing!

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