(S3 WWDITS spoilers below, be warned)
So I've been revisiting the promo pictures that came out months ago for season 3, and they have been extremely clever - the set design has subtle hints for story moments throughout the season.
Nandor: He is holding his "playmobil" human armor which he wears in e8 where he desires to be human again
Nadja: A gargoyle behind her, hinting to The Watchers she and The Guide visit for information
Laszlo: A bird statue, like the siren he confronted to protect Colin Robinson
The next 3 I'm less sure of, as they might yet to be fully revealed.
Guillermo: It's the vampire hunter we all know and love. It's killing me that I can't tell what the objects on the table are. It *looks* like there's a flashlight, which could indicate the search for The Sire. Otherwise, this could simply be him confidently accepting his identity as a vampire hunter or could imply he has some murderin' left to do in the next couple episodes.
Colin Robinson: 100th birthday cake dripping with blood. I'm sure it's going to be fine. (Soft sobbing)
The Guide: She's holding a small candle in a jar. This could symbolize her trying to keep the vampiric council's flame alive despite two bickering idiots in control. It could also refer to a funeral, burning, etc. I'm worried for her!
Am I missing anything? Happy to hear more theories! Can't wait to see what happens next!
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bbc ghosts series three things i can’t stop thinking about
- mary wanting thomas to call her a loose woman
- humphrey being a himbo AND a malewife (thank you larry rickard for my life)
- the captain saying both cock and pussy and not realising how loudly inappropriate either sounded
- wine drunk auntie pat flirting with footman robin and calling him saucy
- julian being tipsy and horny for all eternity because that’s how he died
- fanny fucking humphrey’s body. just his body. *shudders*
- thomas shitting his way across europe
- pantsless chess bros <3
- pat being horny for biscuits and brew
- the captain’s canonical pillow boyfriend
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look at me, I am old, but I’m happy
(for @christchex because I truly believe her to be #1 Sanders supporter)
The damn kids are keeping something from him.
None of them are good liars at the best of times, but every time Sanders shows up when Michael’s friends are around, suddenly they go real quiet. At first, he writes it off as stupid youthful hormone shit. It’s probably something to do with that Manes boy that Michael doesn’t want to talk about.
Only, then Alex Manes starts coming around, Michael’s a lot happier, and the weird behavior keeps going.
Something’s up, and it’s something Michael’s actively not telling him.
“You know, I ought to fire you,” Sanders says one Sunday, when he and Michael are working on the sunflower fields.
Michael scoffs, glancing up from the seeding mechanism he’s been working to fix, but he avoids meeting Sanders’ eyes. He’s known this boy since he tripped out of a pod and he knows when he’s about to be lied to. “I’d like to see you try,” he mutters, but his curiosity is sparked. “Why are you bothering to do that when most of my time is volunteered?”
“Because you and your friends are keeping something from me.”
“We’re not,” Michael lies.
“You’re a terrible liar, boy,” Sanders warns, but he lets him get away with it. Just this once, he lets him. Michael waves him off and grabs his bundle of sunflowers to take back to the Airstream.
He doesn’t say what or who they’re for, but Sanders knows. It’s the Manes boy, who’s been lurking around and grinning like an idiot all the time.
With Michael gone, Sanders is left to consider what it is that’s being whispered about behind his back. There’s enough alien secrets in this town to fill a gossip rag, but Michael’s been fairly honest with him recently, even if he’s been trying to hide how gone he is over his thing with Alex Manes.
The truth is this -- he’s an old man.
The boy he used to be is a memory and a distant one at that. He’s taken Walt and locked him away behind mountains of bottles and liquor. There’s so much trauma related to those days that he actively works as hard as he can to forget it, and that’s why it takes him so long to realize that maybe he actually knows a bit more than he realizes when it comes to one of those alien secrets.
The secret they’re keeping comes to roost soon after.
Well, roost ain’t exactly the word.
“They still allow relics like you in this place?”
When Sanders had still been a child and had been happy with Miss Nora and Miss Louise, he’d always recalled their tension around the man they called Jones. They tried to keep it a secret from him then, too, and it’s irritating as hell that history’s repeating it-damn-self.
“Relics like me belong more than you do around here,” Sanders scoffs, tossing the wrench into the toolbox.
“I’m looking for Michael.”
Sanders turns to take in the look of him. He blames his age on the fact that Max Evans never made him feel that icy chill down his spine to spark recognition. All those years with that face in front of him and he never remembered Jones, not until the alien himself busted out and started scaring Sanders all over like he’s a kid.
He’s not a kid, though. He’s an old man tired of this bullshit and he’s not about to let an asshole push him around.
“Michael,” Sanders says sharply, “ain’t none of your business.”
“He’s none of yours either,” Jones says calmly. “Besides, you’re right. It’s not business. It’s family.”
It comes back in fits and starts. Miss Nora’s discomfort with Jones’ hand on her shoulder, but the possessive way Jones held onto her. The way Jones had always seemed more occupied with one of the pods. The possessive and keen look in his eye when he’d looked at Walt dismissively, like a human child that Nora took a liking to could never pass muster.
There’s only one explanation that Sanders sees, but as far as he’s concerned, it’s crap.
“You’re not that boy’s father,” Sanders scoffs. “Or, you might be by blood or whatever alien junk flows through those veins of yours. That boy needed a father growing up and I sure as hell didn’t do the job well enough, but at least I’ve been here. At least I’ve been trying. That’s a hell of a lot more than you can say.”
He’s an old and very stupid man, seeing as he knows how much Jones can hurt him.
That raised alien hand glowing furiously red is a bad sign, but Sanders decides that if this is how he’s going out, defending Michael is the way he wants to go.
“I might have been late getting my act cleaned up, but I still gave him everything I could. I’d die for that boy,” Sanders vows. “For my kid.”
Jones scoffs, amused by Sanders’ loyalty like it’s a joke, but then, he always has been an ass, hasn’t he? “Funny you should say that, because today’s your lucky day for getting what you want.”
He approaches swiftly, but before he can seal that glowing hand on Sanders’ chest, he just … stops.
Sanders refuses to blink. He’s going to stare down his death as long as Jones wants to kill him, which is why he doesn’t notice that he’s being held in place by someone else’s alien powers.
“Try,” Michael Guerin snaps at Jones, where he’s holding a bundle of sunflowers in one hand, and holding Jones in place with the other. “You’re not gonna like what happens to you.”
Sanders is pretty sure Michael’s bluffing and that when it comes to these two, Michael’s not the one with the upper hand.
Still, Jones is playing some kind of long game, because he steps back and lifts both hands up, stepping back and away. “Just two old friends catching up,” he insists, a look in his eyes that says he’s coming back to find Sanders when Michael’s not around.
Still, he goes. He goes and he doesn’t look back, leaving Sanders to exhale, slumping over the pick-up truck he’s been working on.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Michael demands. “Taunting him like that? He’s an evil dictator! He’s…”
“Yeah, yeah, I got the gist decades ago,” Sanders cuts him off. “All I know is what he’s not, and that’s any kind of father to you. Because I might not be the world’s best Dad, but when it comes to it these days, he doesn’t get to swan in and make you feel like you owe him anything. He doesn’t get to make you feel like you belong to him.”
This is all getting too damn emotional for him, but he wants to make one thing clear.
“I know I didn’t manage the way I should’ve, but if anyone’s a father to you these days, it’s me.” With that said, he gives a firm nod, and hopes that he’s not going to do anything embarrassing like start crying about it.
Well, he might not, but Michael’s struggling to keep it together, by the looks of it, so maybe that’s exactly what it is he needs to hear.
“What the hell are you doing back here anyway?” Sanders grunts, when the awkward silence drags on too long.
Michael clears his throat, gesturing to the Airstream with the flowers (and conveniently wiping at his nose). “I forgot some papers that I wanted to go over with Alex,” he says, “Lucky I did, or you would’ve been alien dust.”
“I got a few tricks up my old sleeves,” Sanders promises, even if he doesn’t have them yet. “So. You and Alex Manes, huh? You ready to admit to me that it’s a thing yet?”
Michael wrinkles his nose, but he’s clearly not thinking about Jones anymore, so Sanders considers it a mission accomplished.
“How about you start worrying about how much of a thing it is when Alex needs to come get permission from my Dad to marry me,” Michael quips, and he sounds free and happy and brazen and goddamn high.
It’s the most that Sanders could ever hope for.
“That likely to happen anytime soon?”
Michael shrugs, ducking back out of the Airstream with the papers. “You know I don’t do things slow.”
“Don’t I ever,” he mutters. “Just warn me before I got alien grandchildren running around the damn scrapyard, will you? The place needs to be alien-proofed.”
The look of sheer glee on Michael’s face settles something in Sanders’ chest. He knows he’s happy. He knows he’s settled. He might have missed too many damn years when he was younger, but at least he’s trying now.
“Go on,” Sanders encourages. “Go be with your friend,” he teases.
“You gonna be okay?”
“I’ve survived worse,” Sanders promises. “Now, get,” he insists, and watches Michael leave the scrapyard, off to woo his paramour.
As for him? Well, he’s got a hell of a long drive ahead of him to get to the reservation if he wants to pick up some pollen, but after tonight, Sanders figures he ought to protect himself. He’s got a family to worry about, after all.
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