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sidespart · 3 years

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The Fall of King Romulus Chapter 7

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The grey man was dead.

The grey man looked like he had been dead for some time.

What little skin he had remaining hung loosely from the bone. The eye sockets were empty, the patches of remaining hair were stringy and dirty. The skull had caved in around the crossbow bolt, revealing an awful wriggling mass of maggots on the inside. The stench of rotting flesh, which Roman had only been able to smell up close before, now filed the room, making him gag.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for whatever glamour had made it so hard to see the details of the grey man’s face to return. He griped Mittens’ soft fur tightly with his good hand, earning him a disgruntled meow.

“What the fuck.” A voice muttered.

Unseen by Roman, a figure emerged from the doorway. One with skin bleached white under the lamp light and eyes that seemed to glow an unnatural shade of violet. Most of him was hidden under a dark cloak, save for the fearsome looking crossbow he held at his hip.

Had there been anyone left to see, Virgil would no doubt have made an intimidating sight. At least until he reached out one foot to poke at the grey man's body and recoiled with an undignified ‘eeeeeew!’ when the flesh gave way easily under the pressure.

Virgil had served more years then he cared to remember in the Finaley’ed army. He had seen many dead bodies. That did not make it any better to hear one squelch.

“Okay.” He called, “Okay, the coast is clear and I shot a dead guy.”

Roman heard a second pair of footsteps approaching before a new voice asked: “Did you retrieve the bolt?”

“The bolt that is covered in maggots? No. No I did not.”

“That’s a waste of resources.”

“That is not my main problem with the corpse in the basement Loga- no don’t touch it!”

“This looks like several months of decay- but there’s no surrounding detritus – do you think they moved it here? For what purpose?”

“I don’t care! Maybe it’s just…some, some unlucky bath house guy that got left down here. Who knows! Just help me find the damm cat.”

“Ah yes,” Roman could hear the disdain in Logan’s voice, “The magic cat.”

On the ground, obscured from their view by the network of pipes, Roman kept his eyes firmly shut. So long as his eyes were shut, he was listening to Logan and Virgil’s bickering and was seconds away from rescue.

But what if he opened his eyes and they weren’t there?

Julius had been found of testing his curses’ limits in this area. He would order Romulus to ‘see’ imaginary monsters in the shadows and then have him describe them. Or to recount conversations that never happened. Or to forget ones that had. None of this research had ever been particularly successful - he couldn’t be ordered to alter reality, even in the privacy of his own head – but Julius had never quite given up on it.

What if he had found a way to make it work?

Roman could hear his own heartbeat, the fast paced thump melding with the rush of water in the pipes that surrounded him, making his head throb and his whole body tremble.

What if it wasn’t Virgil and Logan there at all? What if it was Niki and Marcus back again, or Lucius himself, or no one at all?

What if it wasn’t even Julius doing it, just his own pain-addled mind playing tricks on him?

Romulus bit back a whimper, squeezing his arms tight around his middle.

This was too much for Mittens, who let out a yowl of protest and wriggled out of Roman’s grip.

“Oh!” He gasped, eyes flying open “Sorry!”

Mittens ignored his apology, scampering away through the open door and disappearing into the gloom of the corridor. There was a shout, a sudden rush of footsteps and a loud clang followed by a short curse as someone tripped on one of the pipes running along the floor.

And then two men were standing over him. Twin expression of relief morphing quickly into concern.

Virgil swallowed hard, the healers eyes flicking rapidly over each visible injury before meeting Roman’s own.

“Hey there Princy.” Virgil said softly.

***

The journey back through the corridors was a lot slower than their journey in. At least Logan had managed to retrieve one of the lanterns from the maintenance room so he was no longer relying on clinging to the back of Virgil’s cape to navigate.

When they had initially followed the….cat….to the bathhouse they’d thought their luck was beginning to change. It was coronation day, all businesses were closed; it should have been an easy matter to sneak in. When Virgil had scaled the opposing buildings for some roof top reconnaissance however he had come back grim faced – the upper floors were full of soldiers.

The design on their uniform matched the symbol Lucy had drawn the night before, and that Logan had identified in the library that morning. It belonged to the house of Orenlla in Notaleveale. It was not three ‘Vs’ as Lucy had thought, but a stylised version of the three largest peaks on the Sarindu mountain range, which marked the border between Notaleveale and the middle kingdoms. The man she had seen had apparently been wearing his clasp upside down.

Despite his success, Logan had left the library disappointed. Ornella was a noble house in Notaleveale but not one significant enough to warrant a permanent residence in the middle kingdom city of Steveange. It was surely possible to find out where the contingent were staying – the townsfolk seemingly obsessed with the movement of the visiting nobility- but the librarians he spoke to all gave different suggestions, if any at all. Checking every possible address was going to take days.

As desperate as Logan had been feeling, at least he didn’t return to the meeting point with a cat.

Patton had gone to see the crone – or ‘Mama Tay’, as she apparently insisted Patton call her - who had no new information as to where Roman had gone or why he had left, but who had offered to help find him anyway.

Using her cat.

(“I don’t like it.” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil.” Logan said, relived to find at least one of his companions hadn’t lost their minds.

“It’s blood magic”

“It’s a CAT!”)

Apparently, when Mittens had scratched Roman at the crone’s – Mama Tay’s – house, it had collected enough blood for a simple locator spell. And Patton, bless him, had agreed to swap a bushel of fresh food from the market for an hours use of the magical bard seeking cat.

Logan had despaired.

Logan wasn’t quite ready to eat his words (dogs could be trained to track blood scents couldn’t they? Why not a cat? There was a reasonable explanation somewhere, surely) but even he had to admit, Mittens had been a lot more successful than any of them.

After Virgil had returned from the rooftop shaking his head, Mittens had meowed piteously until they followed him to a side street, where thin slits set at ground level vented hot air from the bathhouse basement. The cat had slipped in easily, and after a few minutes debate, Logan and Virgil had wiggled their way in after.

They’d used a rope to reach the ground, finding themselves at the base of a set of stairs. There was a soft glow at the top, presumably the main floor of the house, enough to illuminate Mittens’ tail as he trotted off deeper into the basement.

It was only Virgil’s night vision that prevented them from breaking their necks on the next set of stairs, but eventually they had made their way to the a well-lit and uncomfortably warm maintenance room.

And to Roman.

An injured Roman. A glassy-eyed Roman who could barely stand and started shivering as soon as they left the heat of the room.

“He’s going into shock.” Virgil muttered, fixing his cape around Roman’s shoulders. He pulled it tight, wrapping the ends securely, but making Roman whimper in pain. Not knowing what to do, Logan just held the lantern higher. It illuminated the cut on Roman’s sallow face, and the bruises that surrounded it. Bruises which continued over his shoulders and no doubt down his back. Logan had seen the stick, lying next to the corpse, it’s end strained with blood from where the skin had split.

Stupidly, he wished he’d taken the time to break it into a hundred little pieces.

When they reached the first set of stairs, they paused to let Roman catch his breath. His breathing was shallow and he slumped heavily against Logan’s side.

Logan had once watched Roman hop on one foot for almost a mile rather than swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Logan exchanged a glance with Virgil, not bothering to keep the panic from his face.

Virgil let out a long exhale an reached over to squeeze Logan’s shoulder reassuringly, shifting himself to take some of the bard’s weight.

“He’s not going to be able to climb out the way we came in.” Virgil murmured.

“Obviously.” Logan nodded.

That was okay. They had a plan B.

As if on cue, a distant roar rang out above them, followed by quite a lot of screaming.

“Issat Patton?” Roman asked, staring into the darkness with unfocused eyes.

“Mmhmm”, Virgil leaned over and pushed some of Roman’s damp hair away from his face. “He was meant to come get us if we weren’t out in twenty minutes. I think he’s early.”

“There’s at les’ a dozen of ‘em.” Roman slurred “Niki said.”

“Patton can handle it.” Virgil said firmly, though his eyes flickered to the ceiling, betraying his nervousness. “Can you walk?”

Roman nodded, though he needed both their help to actually manage it. It was painfully slow going, with Roman unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince of pain with each step.

The first flight of stairs was relatively short, but by the time they had reached the top Roman’s shaking was so bad it was making Logan’s own teeth rattle. Still, they pressed on, almost dragging the bard between them to the base of the much larger set of stairs that would take them to street level.

Here the noises from the floor above were much louder – the clash of steel on steel reverberating down the stairs.

Logan stared at the next obstacle, uncertain. There were what amounted to five flights, with a small flat platform at each turning point. There was a banister running each side of the stairs, but it was missing in several places. What was there didn’t look like it would hold much weight.

Above them, there was an enormous crash followed by a bellow of almost inhuman rage.

“Frog mode?” Roman asked drowsily.

“Frog mode.” Virgil said grimly.

The berserkers of Krutova painted their faces with the green and blue mud from the rivers and swamps that saturated their forest home. Legend said they could lie in wait for hours, hidden under the water, using hollow reeds to breath before leaping out on unsuspecting enemies with a monstrous frenzied rage, dragging their opponents to a watery grave – assuming they didn’t, quite literally, rip them apart first.

Logan had never seen Patton paint his face. And the big man did not like to talk about his time at war. But Logan had seen him fight off more than a dozen men in a bar brawl without breaking a sweat. He’d once seen him wrestle a wild boar just for fun.

Still. The men upstairs were trained guardsmen, not drunks. And they were armed. And it had only been a small boar.

Virgil was clearly having similar thoughts, his fingers twitching against his side, his eyes constantly flickering up and then back towards Logan and Roman. .

“Go.” Logan said, “We’ll follow you.”

Virgil hesitated, but Roman nodded, straightening up as much as he could “We’ll be righ’ behin’ you. Go help dad.”

Virgil dithered a moment more and then let out all his breath in a rush, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Okay just. Go slow. We’ll come get you when the coast is clear.” he waited until they both nodded before turning and all but leaping up the stairs. Roman held his pose until he was out of sight and then collapsed once more against Logan’s side.

The scholar adjusted his grp on the lantern, and hooked his other arm over Roman’s back. With a grunt of effort, the bard managed to sling his left arm over Logan’s shoulder, leaving his uninjured hand free to grip the rickety banister. Logan squeezed, holding him tightly. Roman groaned as he pressed against the bruises and welts that coated his back but Logan held firm.

“One step at a time.” the younger man said softly. “Okay?”

Panting, Roman nodded, giving Logan a sickly lopsided grin.

The staircase spiralled five times before reaching the top floor. They made it round twice before trouble found them.

“You.” The man growled.

The man standing between them and freedom was generically handsome, with large eyes and a strong jaw. He had a passing resemblance to Roman; with the same dark reddish brown hair and tanned skin. He wore a doublet of pink and navy, with the three peaked mountains embroidered in gold thread.

“Luc’-“ Roman gasped out, “don’t-“

“Shut up!” the Marquis de Orenlla snapped. He held a wicked looking dagger in one hand, eyes ablaze. “Is there no end to your duplicity? You foul traitor, I should have you hanged!“

Also like Roman, he seemed to favour being loud over being coherent.

With a grunt, Roman removed his injured arm from Logan’s shoulder and clung to the banister.

“Go!” he shouted to Logan.

Logan spared him an exasperated glance and threw the lantern at the Marquis head.

He went down with a screech, rolling back and forth on the small platform to put the flames dancing on his embroidery. The dagger skirted away and over the edge of the platform.

“You go.” Logan snapped at Roman, pulling out his sword and stepping between the two men.

Technically it was Roman’s sword, the one he had left behind in the inn. But Logan has been taking their training sessions seriously and it felt comfortable in his hands. He pointed the blade a the Marquis throat, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“Wow!” Roman laughed and lent to the side to grin at the flabbergasted noble “I trained him.” he said smugly.

“Hurry up!” Logan hissed and to his great relief, Roman did so, inching his way behind Logan and starting up the next flight of stairs.

“Stop.” The Marquis croaked out.

Roman stopped.

Logan turned towards him, frustrated “Roman, I’ve got this – just keep-“

Later, Logan would blame the stress of the situation for just why he chose to turn away from his prisoner at that precise moment.

Before he had chance to process what was happening, he was falling. Pain rippling through his ankle from a well placed kick from the Marquis. He dropped the heavy sword almost immediately, only for it to be snatched up by the larger man.

Logan felt himself being dragged through the air, and all at once he was pinned against the Marquis chest, sword now held at his own neck.

He saw Roman start back down the stairs towards them and felt the Marquis’ hot breath against his ear as he shouted: “Stop!”

Roman stopped. One foot frozen in the air, he lost his balance almost immediately and toppled to the side, reaching out instinctively to grab the banister with his injured hand, letting out a howl of pain.

The Marquis shuffled backwards, dragging Logan with him, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

“I’m serious, Romulus.” the Marquis growled. “Not one more step. Or your friend here is going to be even shorter.”

“I'm average height.” Logan muttered sullenly.

The Marquis snorted in his ear. “Where? In the Dwarf kingdom?”

“Lucius!” Roman whimpered, he was hunched over, cradling his bad arm to his chest. “Please – he’s just a kid!”

“I am only three years younger than you!” Logan cried indignantly.

“Oh right.” Roman muttered. “My bad.” And then Roman straightened up. He hadn’t been cradling his arm at all – he’d been working something out of his tunic.

Roman’s dagger, a dull pointless object in desperate need of replacement, came hurtling towards them.

The Marquis let out a shout and instinctively raised the sword to bat the dagger away. Logan took the opportunity to wrench out of his grip, blindly kicking out behind him as he did so.

His foot made satisfying contact with the Marquis’ knee, sending him toppling off the platform, a resounding series of crashes and shouts echoing through the chamber as he bounced down the stairs.

Logan hurried towards Roman as fast as he could, not bothering to turn around and see how far the Marquis had fallen.

“Can you move?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so.” Roman admitted from his prone position at the base of the steps. Logan bit back a wail of frustration. Roman truly looked done in, his eyes battling to stay open, and there was no way Logan was going to be able to carry him up the-

“Logan? Roman?”

Logan hadn’t been to a city temple since he left his apprenticeship. He had no particular interest in the Gods or their silly squabbles. But the sight of Patton - working his way towards them with his clothing torn and face splattered with blood that wasn’t his own – well. Logan was fairly certain he could pass for an angel.

“You’re safe now.” Logan whispered, although he had no proof of the long term truth of that statement, “go to sleep Roman.”

Roman did as he was told.

Part 8

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #cretivitwins #i wasnt planning to get another chapter up so quick but im gonna have other things to focus on this weeek and aaaaah i just wanted to write #the rescue scene #EVERYONE IN THIS UNIVERSE IS A DISASTER BUT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER A LOT SO ITS OKAY #sidespart writes #ts: fall of romulus

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Desperation 15/16

Oh, don’t mind if I do! As soon as you sent me this prompt I knew how I was going to write it :))

This chapter is also dedicated to @timelordthirteen, who made this wonderful aesthetic post for this fic and has been patiently waiting for these two to touch :)

[AO3]

Oh, the rating went up

Belle wrapped the robe she was wearing around herself a little tighter, looping the belt tight as Gold closed down the laptop and shoved the pad containing his budget notes into one of the kitchen drawers. She took two wine glasses from the cupboard as he rummaged around on one of the higher shelves in the larder, finally taking down a bottle of red wine. He held it up, looking uncertain. A stylised black cat with a curling tail was on the label, looking out with tilted green eyes.

“I’ve no idea what it’s like,” he said. “Not exactly a connoisseur. I’m guessing it’ll be red and fairly alcoholic. Aftertaste of wine.”

Belle giggled.

“Can’t ask much more than that,” she said. “Besides, it has a black cat on it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Gold’s eyebrow twitched, and she felt her mouth drop open as she realised what she’d said.

“Uh - I - I meant with the taste,” she said lamely, and his eyes gleamed as he tried to hide a smile.

“Well, let’s hope so.” He stepped past her, reaching into one of the drawers for a corkscrew. “Come on, let’s take this through to the lounge.”

She waited for him to uncork the bottle, following him through to the lounge and setting the glasses on the coffee table before turning on the lamps. Gold eased himself onto the couch, picking up the glasses one by one and pouring wine into them.

“Cheers,” he said, raising his glass, and she smiled, sitting down next to him and picking up her own.

“Cheers.”

They clinked glasses, and Belle took a sip. The wine was pleasant enough as far as she could tell, its warmth spreading down her throat as she swallowed.

“Considering my sense of taste has all but disappeared, it seems pretty good,” she said, and Gold nodded.

“Honestly, it’s so long since I had a drink, anything would taste good,” he said. “But I’ve definitely had worse.”

He took another sip, and settled back against the cushions with a sigh as he relaxed a little, stretching his legs out.

“How long is it since you just kicked back with a glass of wine?” she asked.

“Probably New Year’s Eve,” he admitted. “Didn’t stay up until midnight, or anything. Bae and I had been to Granny’s New Year’s party, but I had a glass of wine when he went to bed, and I drank the last of the whisky I had. Sat here in silence and thought about the year that had gone and the one that was to come.”

“I have to say that my New Year’s Eve was similar,” she remarked. “Only with far more alcohol and many more regrets.”

Gold chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

“I was thinking it would be a good year,” he said. “A better year. Didn’t see any of this coming, of course.”

“None of us did,” she said. “Although I have to say this whole experience has made me reevaluate things. Think about what’s important in life.”

“Has it made you regret coming to Storybrooke?” he asked. “You would have had more freedom to move around if you’d stayed in the city, I imagine.”

“Oh, I could never regret coming here,” she said at once. “It’s a wonderful town; admittedly I haven’t seen all that much of it yet, but it certainly seems wonderful. And coming here just before a crisis hits, being a relative stranger in this place - well, it’s made me realise how much strength and compassion there is out there. And how important it is to have a community. To belong.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “This town certainly pulls together in a crisis. And you do belong, Belle. You’re one of us now.”

She smiled at him, and there was a comfortable silence as they drank their wine. It had made her cheeks flush a little, and by the time she finished the glass she was feeling a gentle buzz from the alcohol. Gold took her empty glass, setting it on the table beside his own and pouring them another.

“Did Bae say anything to you earlier?” he asked. “He seems a little down today.”

“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip. “Yeah. He was talking about his mom.”

“Ah.” Gold nodded. “Yes. He mentions her less than he once did, but I’m sure he still misses her.”

“He told me about the last time they spoke,” she said, picking up her glass. “He said she promised to visit and bring presents, but she never showed up.”

Gold gave her a thin, bitter smile.

“No,” he said. “He must have asked me when she was coming fifty times over that Christmas period. I didn’t have an answer.”

“And you haven’t heard from her since?” asked Belle.

“A couple of postcards, gushing about how wonderful it was to travel,” he said dryly. “Full of empty promises about how she would come and see him and tell him all about what she’d been doing. The last one of those was over two years ago. I don’t even know if she’s still alive, and frankly I don’t care.”

He hung his head a little, his mouth flattening as he turned the glass between his fingers.

“That sounds bad, doesn’t it?” he said quietly. “I don’t - I don’t wish her harm, I just - she hurt Bae a lot by breaking her promises all the time. She always said she loved him, and that she’d keep in touch, and it just - never seemed to happen. I’d get him ready for a weekend with her, and she’d be late, or she just wouldn’t show at all.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “Poor little Bae. That must have been so hard on him.”

“Sometimes I think it might have been better if she’d said straight out that she didn’t want any access,” he said. “Just left him with me when he was born and gone and lived her own life. At least then he wouldn’t have missed her. Still. Hindsight, and all that.”

“Maybe she wanted to try to do the right thing,” ventured Belle, and he shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “She made enough of a point of wanting access in the divorce, but perhaps that was just because she wanted to create some drama, I don’t know.”

“So she has your address?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” he said dryly. “I made sure she always knew how to contact him. As much as I could. Last time she wrote to him, she said she was taking a boat out to the Caribbean. God alone knows where she ended up.”

He ran a hand through his hair, huffing air through his lips.

“God, I’m sorry to rant about my ex. I’ve never really had the chance to do it before. Wouldn’t be fair to do it in front of Bae.”

“I think he’s forming his own opinion of her, anyway,” said Belle, and he nodded.

“Perhaps he is. Not much I can do about it either way, it’s up to her to make their relationship work. If she’s interested.”

“You think she’ll ever come back?” she asked, and he pulled a face.

“In the absence of needing a kidney or something?” he said, making her grin. “If I had to put money on it I’d say it’s unlikely.”

There was silence for a moment. Gold took a swallow of wine, shaking his head as though freeing himself from the ghosts of his past.

“What about you?” he asked. “Any depressing relationship failures you want to tell me about?”

Belle pulled a face.

“Mostly a long list of failed first dates,” she said. “A couple of relationships, but nothing that got too serious. Sometimes I think I’m cursed. Or too picky, one of the two.”

“You should be picky,” he said. “No sense in settling for less than you deserve. You deserve the best, Belle. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”

Gold inclined his head.

“I am happy,” he said. “Most of the time. You know, when there isn’t a deadly pandemic and the threat of financial ruin hanging over the town.”

He sent her a grin, to lighten the statement, and Belle smiled, taking another drink.

“Have you dated much since you got to Storybrooke?” she asked, and he snorted.

“No. Haven’t had time to think about it. Despite Granny doing her best to set me up with every single woman that visits the diner.”

“Sounds like the potential for a bunch of dates as awful as mine was,” she said. “My friend Ariel kept arranging blind dates for me back when I was living in Boston. Unfortunately Ariel’s idea of a hot date and mine just - well, they don’t really match up.”

“I daresay she and Granny would get along well,” he remarked, and Belle giggled.

“Well meaning and wonderful but really missing the mark,” she said.

“God bless ‘em.”

He raised his glass, and she clinked her own against his, still chuckling.

“It hasn’t put you off relationships entirely, then?” she said. “Getting divorced?”

Gold eyed her for a moment, and shrugged.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I haven’t become bitter and cynical, no matter how badly things ended with Milah. No matter how badly they began.”

Belle turned towards him, drawing her knees up onto the couch.

“You were married,” she said. “You must have cared about each other once.”

“We married because of Bae,” he said wearily. “I wanted to do the right thing, give us some stability. But yes, I suppose we did care. She told me she loved me, anyway. In the beginning.”

“Perhaps she did.”

He gave her a tiny, twisted smile.

“Perhaps,” he said. “For a time.”

“What happened?” asked Belle softly, and he sighed.

“We wanted different things out of life,” he said simply. “And the things she wanted, I couldn’t give her. Things weren’t great to begin with, but then I did this.” He tapped his bad leg.

“How did you do it?” she asked curiously, and he pulled a face.

“One of my jobs in New York was a courier,” he said. “Motorcycle courier. Had an accident. Caught a wheel on a patch of fuel and took a trip under a truck. Lucky to come out of it with just a busted ankle.”

Belle winced.

“God, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is,” he said, and took another swallow of wine. “Made things impossible between us, though. I hadn’t been much of a catch beforehand, but with a limp and a cane…” He gave her a self-deprecating grin, shrugging.

“You broke up, huh?” said Belle, and he nodded.

”She grew - resentful,” he said. “Restless. It was only a matter of time, really, the accident just made it happen sooner. She wanted money, good times, new places and new people every month. She never wanted the life I could give her. Such as it was.”

“You’re a very generous person,” she told him, and he smiled.

“With what?” he said. “I have nothing to offer. As she told me repeatedly.”

“Don’t say that,” she said firmly, and he shrugged.

“It’s true,” he said. “Milah wasn’t wrong about the facts, however cruel she might have been in the delivery. I have no money. No prospects. Nothing but the skills I’ve taught myself.”

“And a kind and generous nature, and a sense of humour, and a selfless heart…”

Gold chuckled, eyes glinting in amusement.

“You make me sound like a Jane Austen heroine.”

“Take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, I will,” he remarked. “I suppose there’s a lot to be said for trying to be kind in the face of adversity. However unheroic and unmasculine it might be considered by some.”

“As a librarian, I’m qualified to tell you that here are many different types of hero,” she said. “Besides, who cares about money and - and wild parties and things? None of that means anything. Not compared to family and belonging and making a life together. Milah was wrong to think it did.”

“Well, like I said.” His tone was wry. “We wanted different things.”

There was silence for a moment, and Belle took a drink, watching as the light caught on Gold’s hair, picking out gold and silver threads in amongst the brown. He glanced across at her, licking a droplet of wine from his lip, and she thought how handsome he was in the warm light, with his high cheekbones and his soft eyes, long fingers tapping against the wine glass.

Another drink, the heat of the wine in her mouth, on her tongue. Gold took a sip of his own, lean throat bobbing as he swallowed. There were tiny flecks of new stubble on his jaw, and she licked her lips, wondering how rough it would feel, enjoying the sudden tug of desire deep in her belly. She had been analysing what she felt for him for several days, the growing fondness for his gentle ways and his kind nature, the attraction that pooled and swelled and made her heart thump. She wondered how it would feel to have him touch her. How he would taste if she kissed him.

Belle put down her glass, taking a deep breath, her skin tingling.

“So you said Milah left when Bae was four,” she said, and he nodded, glancing across at her as he took a drink.

“That’s right,” he said, setting down his glass.

“And since then, you’ve loved no one,” she said softly. “And no one has loved you.”

Gold stared at her for a moment, as though he was unsure what she had said, then slowly leaned forward, the couch squeaking a little as he moved. He was very close, and she could feel her breath quicken as his eyes bored into hers.

“Why did you stay with me?” he whispered, and she swallowed, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips.

“I - I wanted to help,” she said. “I thought - I thought you needed me.”

He lifted a hand, his movements hesitant, seeming to catch himself momentarily before gently cupping her cheek, his fingers sliding across her skin. Belle sucked in a breath at his touch, her heart thumping, and as uncertainty flickered across his face she put a hand over his, holding him there. He leaned in a little closer, until she could feel his cool breath against her lips.

“I do need you,” he whispered. “I need you, Belle.”

“I need you, too,” she breathed. “And - and I want you, Rum. So much.”

It was as though sparks were dancing between them, making her skin prickle and her lips part. His breathing had hardened a little, and his eyes were dark and deep, staring into hers. She could feel her pulse throbbing high in her throat, and she leaned in and briefly pressed her mouth to his, a gentle brush of soft lips. Gold sucked in a breath, a shiver going through him, and she kissed him again, lips pressing a little harder before she pulled back. He was staring at her wide-eyed, his palm still cupping her face, and he reached up with the other hand, fingertips brushing stray curls back from her face as he leaned in to kiss her again.

He was hesitant, a little breathless, his lips brushing gently against hers, his fingers sliding into her hair. Belle shifted closer, hands dropping to slide around his waist, and she moaned as the tip of his tongue gently parted her lips, pushing inside to stroke against hers.

Belle shifted closer, pushing him back against the cushions as the kiss deepened. Her heart was thumping, her cheeks flushing as their lips slipped and slid, Gold’s fingers stroking against the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair. She slid a knee across his legs, straddling him, and his hands moved down her back, tugging her close against him as he let out a groan of pleasure. She could feel the edge of his belt buckle against her lower belly, and she rolled her hips, sinking down a little and feeling the hard line of his cock pressing against her core. Gold gasped into her mouth, hot breath and wet lips against hers, and pulled back a little, breathing hard.

Belle nuzzled her nose with his, and he reached up to stroke her hair back from her face, running his thumb over her lower lip, his hands trembling a little. She kissed the tip of his thumb, catching his eyes with hers, her chest heaving as she slid her hands up his chest. He shook his head.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he whispered, and she smiled.

“Did you dream about this?”

“Too many times,” he breathed. “I never thought - never hoped you might—”

She kissed him again, and he let out a low growl, his hand clutching at her hair as the kiss grew hard and messy. His chest was hot and firm beneath her hands as they slid upwards, his hair just as soft as she had expected. She pulled her mouth from his, sitting back a little as she tried to catch her breath.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

He stared at her, his mouth a little slack, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly uncertain.

“Do you - not want to?” she asked, and Gold’s eyebrows flicked upwards.

“Oh - no no, of course I do,” he said quickly. “It’s just - well - you’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just a little tired, that’s all. Going to bed would be the best thing for me, in the circumstances.”

He grinned at that, and inclined his head.

“I can’t argue with that,” he said. “But I didn’t see any condoms in Mayor Mills’ grocery box.”

Belle giggled, and kissed his nose.

“I take birth control,” she said. “So - so we could. If you wanted.”

He smiled briefly, his eyes glinting.

“I want,” he breathed, and kissed her again.

Belle undulated against him, pressing her body to his, feeling the heat of him through his shirt, and his hand dropped to her thigh, sliding upwards, moving over her hip to squeeze her rear. She pulled her mouth free, pressing her forehead to his.

“Bed,” she whispered, and slipped from his lap.

They left the wine, Belle grasping his hand in hers and pulling him with her up the stairs. The lamp was on in the bedroom, a pleasant, warm light, and she shut the door behind him, hoping that Bae was sleeping soundly and wouldn’t decide to wander around in the middle of the night. She stepped forward, reaching for him, and their mouths met, her hands grasping his belt and tugging it open as his hands stroked over her shoulders. Gold pushed the robe from her, and she quickly pulled the belt open and let it fall, stepping closer and rising up on her toes as she pulled her mouth from his and kissed down his neck.

He let out a low groan, head rolling back, and she reached for the buttons of his shirt, eager to open it up and bare his skin. Her hands shook a little as she unbuttoned him, and she trailed her mouth around his throat, breathing in the musky scent of him, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her tender lips. She got the shirt open, tugging it from his jeans, hands sliding over hot, firm muscles as she pushed it from him. Gold shrugged out of it, and she bent her head to his chest, letting her tongue swirl over a taut nipple and making him groan. His skin tasted of salt and very faintly of the shower gel he used. She breathed him in, nuzzling his skin with her nose, and tasted him again, sucking the nipple in between her lips.

Gold ran his fingers through her hair, rumpling her curls as she sucked at him, her tongue circling. His fingers gently scraped against her scalp, making her shiver deliciously, and she slid her hands down his sides, feeling the lines of his ribs, drawing her fingertips around the waistband of his jeans. She let his nipple slip from her mouth and raised her head, breathing hard as she plucked at the button of his fly. Gold cradled her face with warm hands, kissing her tenderly, his lips soft and wet.

She got his jeans open, breaking the kiss as she pushed them down over his hips, and stepped back as he kicked them off. Gold reached for her, hands gently grasping her hips and pulling her a little closer. His thumbs slipped beneath the shirt of her PJs, brushing against the skin of her waist and slowly pushing upwards, lifting the shirt. Belle raised her arms to let him pull it over her head and toss it aside, and she shook out her hair, watching him study her, his eyes roaming over her curves.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

She smiled, reaching for him, stepping close and sliding her hands around his waist as she raised her head to capture his lips with her own. Gold groaned, hands sliding down to cup her rear and pull her close, her breasts pushing against his chest, his skin hot against hers. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck, and Belle rose up on her toes with a moan of pleasure. The sensation of his lips against her skin made her shiver, and he pulled back, nuzzling her nose with his as he pushed her pants down over her rear.

Belle stepped out of them, turning and pulling him with her as she lay down on the bed. He stumbled a little, kneeling heavily on the mattress beside her before lying by her side, and Belle shifted over a little, reaching up to kiss him, hands stroking through his hair as he pulled her close. He rolled her onto her back, kissing down her throat, his hair brushing against her chest as he kissed lower, his tongue painting circles on her skin. His hands cupped her breasts, and Belle moaned, arching upwards as he sucked at a nipple, a low groan coming from him.

She let her head roll back against the pillows, eyes closed, enjoying the heat and weight of him pressing down on her, and the feel of his lips against her skin. He kissed lower, his fresh stubble scratching at her belly, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue swept over her navel, lips pulling at her skin. His hands slid down to her thighs, pushing them apart, and she opened her legs wider as his nose brushed against her tender flesh. Gold let out a low growl as he kissed her, and Belle answered him with a tiny cry as his tongue dipped in between her folds. She let her hands drop to push through his hair, moaning as he licked her, his tongue swirling and stabbing, brushing over her clit and making her skin hum with pleasure.

“God, Belle!” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, and put his mouth to her again, his tongue circling, soft and wet.

Belle moaned, arching her back, pushing against his mouth. He had settled into a rhythm, his tongue moving in slow circles, and she lost herself in the feel of it, letting the pleasure build deep in her core. His hand moved, a finger teasing her before sliding inside, pushing deep, and Belle gasped at the increase in sensation, her fingers tightening in his hair.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed. “So good.”

He was sliding the finger in and out of her, his tongue stroking against her, and she could feel the heat rise up through her body, flushing her cheeks and making her breath quicken. She whimpered, clutching at his hair, pushing her hips upwards, her body rocking against the bed in time with his thrusts. He had quickened his pace, his tongue flickering over her, and she could feel her muscles tense, her body tightening as her pulse seemed to pound in her head.

She came with a cry, shoving a forearm over her mouth to muffle the noise as a wave of pleasure broke over her. Gold groaned, drawing the finger out of her, his mouth covering her, devouring her, and she moaned as her hips jerked in tiny, rapid movements. He pressed kisses to her, lips trailing over her inner thighs before making his way up over her belly, and she slid her hands over his shoulders as he reached her breasts, his hands cupping, lips gently pulling at a nipple. His body was pressed against hers, and she could feel him against her thigh, a hard, heavy heat that made desire surge within her.

He pushed up on his elbows, breathing hard as he gazed down on her, and she reached up to push his hair back from his face, his skin damp and sticky.

“That was amazing,” she whispered. “You see? Very generous.”

He grinned, his eyes glinting.

“I could be even more generous, if you like.”

“Maybe later,” she said, sliding a hand down between them. “I’m in the mood for something a little more - mutual.”

She grasped his cock, feeling the hot, rigid length of him in her hand, squeezing gently, and Gold groaned low in his throat, a bass, rumbling growl. Belle ran the pad of her thumb over the head, spreading a bead of slippery fluid, and opened her legs a little wider, guiding him into her. His breath caught, the muscles in his arms tightening, and he let out a shuddering sigh as he pushed slowly inside her, sinking deep. She moaned, lifting her knees, sliding her feet along his thighs and up over his rear, wrapping her legs around his back.

He felt good inside her, and she lifted her hips, feeling the heat of him, the friction of his skin against hers as he began to move with long, slow circles of his hips, a rhythmic grinding motion. His hands pushed into her hair, fingers still sticky with her fluids, and he kissed her, his tongue gently pushing between her lips. Belle caressed his shoulders, running fingertips down his sides and up the groove of his spine to stroke through his hair. He shuddered, gasping into her mouth, his hands cradling her face, his lips brushing against hers as he thrust into her.

Belle moaned, head rolling back against the pillows, and he drew his tongue up her throat, sucking at her skin. The feel of him inside her was incredible, heat and wetness and the friction of his body against hers sending bursts of sensation through her. She kissed along his jaw, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her lips, drawing the warm scent of him in through her nose. She could feel bliss rising through her once more, swelling upwards and making her skin hum. Her thighs gripped his sides, sliding against him, holding him tight, and he groaned against her neck, his movements quickening, his cock pushing deep inside her.

She could feel him tense, his muscles hard and taut beneath her fingers, and she bucked against him, tugging at him, a moan bursting from her throat and becoming a cry of pleasure as she came, stars bursting in her vision. Gold let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he followed her, his thrusts rapid and shallow as his hips pumped. She clung to him, letting out tiny moans in time with his thrusts, and he slowed to a stop, breathing heavily, hair brushing her face as he pressed his forehead to hers.

Belle tried to catch her breath, feeling the heat of him against her, perspiration making their skin slippery where their bodies joined. She tilted her head, gently brushing her lips against his, and Gold smiled, nuzzling her affectionately.

“Hey,” he said, and she smiled.

“Hey.”

He kissed along her jaw and down her neck, slowly pulling out of her and rolling onto his side with a heavy sigh. Belle turned with him, sliding a hand over his waist and down over his hip. She felt wonderfully relaxed, her skin still tingling from her orgasm, and Gold was watching her with a tender expression, his eyes heavy with sleepy contentment. She walked her fingers up his body, laying her hand over his heart and feeling its heavy thump against her palm. Gold smiled, putting a hand over hers.

“I’d forgotten how good it feels,” he whispered, sliding his fingers through hers. “To be touched. To touch like this.”

“It’s been a while for me, too,” she said, and his mouth curved in a lopsided grin.

“Has it been six years?”

“Well - okay, maybe not that long,” she admitted, chuckling. “But this was worth the wait.”

“Indeed.” He kissed her gently. “It was perfect.”

“Not bad for a couple of invalids,” she added, and he chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a wonderful dream,” he said. “And when I wake up, I’ll be alone again.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on sleeping on the couch again,” she remarked. “Your bed is too comfy. And way better when you’re in it with me.”

“Good,” he said softly, and kissed her again. “Stay with me tonight, Belle.”

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “I won’t leave you, I promise.”

#fic: desperation #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #sprite's pandemic promptathon #crystalwhitepeacock #my fic #rumbelle smut

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 3 years

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New Year’s Resolutions (Oh Yes, It’s That Time Again)

TRIGGER WARNING: COVID, Cannibalism, Jeffrey Dahmer and Great Big Shiny Cutlasses!

So, it’s probably rather late for my traditional ‘New Year’s Resolutions’ blog, but fuck it: it’s not like any sane, rational person would attempt my suggested resolutions anyway. With that in mind, let’s dive in. It’s still early January, so it’s still justified as far as yer humble narrator here is concerned. Without further ado, here are some of the things you could resolve to do to make life slightly better (or worse) here in 2021.

Become a Superspreader! With the UK forced to introduce Lockdown 3: The Enlockening, and many countries around the world still desperately trying to get on top of the terrifying, start-of-a-zombie-movie-esque global pandemic, there’s never been a better time to be a deadly pathogen, and never been a worse time to be a human. Well, you know what they say: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Instead of cowering from the spindly, conker-headed clutches of the Coronavirus (seriously, have you seen the closeups of its morphology? It really does look like a fucking conker- that graffiti I saw was right!), why not embrace it? See how many people you can infect and help bring about the end of human civilisation before we perpetrate another fucking Pitch Perfect sequel. NB: Don’t actually do this. You will be arrested and, to quote the Kentucky Fried Movie, “it would be wrong”. I shouldn’t have to flag up that these entries are bleak, despairing jokes, but I know my audience and I actually do.

Learn a New Skill! When most New Years Resolution Suggestion Blogs say you should learn a new skill, they mean something twee and charming like origami or making the perfect cup of coffee. I, however, can see the direction Planet Earth is heading in, and feel like now might be a good time to cultivate some skills that will actually help you survive after the world has fallen into ruins, when our cities stand silent and deserted and COVID-spreading raptors stalk the streets, breathing on anyone they can’t eat. But what type of skills will help in such a landscape? Can I suggest starting with something simple, like learning how to turn a human skull into an ashtray? After that, you can graduate to more complex survival skills, like how to trade fellatio for bullets and cans of soup.

Complete ‘The Device’! Yeah, yeah, I say it every year, but just in case COVID doesn’t kill us all, we really should be making a back-up plan. Preferably a colourful, supervillainous back-up plan that relies on a complicated machine of planetary domination and destruction and which can be conducted while cackling wildly.

Get Back into Piracy! Seriously, when was the last time you took to the high seas to murder and pillage with a funny Cornish accent? Oh, we all keep saying that we mean to go back to piracy, but let’s be honest, it’s been a long time since 1726 and we’re all a bit out of practice (except those dudes from Somalia, who are frankly making the rest of us look bad). But don’t let fear of looking foolish stop you: make 2021 the year you stop making excuses, pick up a cutlass and start roaming the Pacific trade routes, looking for unsuspecting landlubbers to prey on.

Wear More Offensive Shirts! It’s really, really easy to offend people by accident nowadays, on account of the fact that people actually like to be offended. It gives them a lovely feeling of validation when they can do it as a group- the kind of feeling real people used to get by joining a club or going to an orgy. Whenever I feel a spark of hope for the human race, I remember that one time an astrophysicist who’d just landed a probe on a comet FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HUMAN HISTORY got pilloried by arseholes because he happened to make the announcement in a shirt with a stylised picture naked lady on it. A shirt a female friend had apparently given him and which he wore, not to be sexist, but because, er, he liked it. Since it’s so blindingly obvious that people like being offended by stupid shit (and that large swathes of the human race deserve extinction), why not help them by giving them something to be really offended about. Again, in the form of shirts. At the moment, I’m keeping it pretty low-key with a gloriously eye-gouging pink and grey Hawaiian-style leaf-patterned shirt, which I insist on wearing with a neon pink tie that my hot girlfriend got me. However, as the year goes on, I intend to kick things up a notch by donning a shirt depicting the act of physical love (with labels) and having another made up with the faces of my favourite serial killers printed on the back in order of preference. Let’s see what the fucking Twitterati make of that.

Read a Fucking Book! This is the only real, serious suggestion on this list, and yes, I do count audiobooks and being read to as ‘reading a fucking book’. Seriously, the world’s a shit place, expand your horizons with something as informative and enriching as it is entertaining. Also, some of y’all are illiterate motherfuckers and could really use this.

Try Cannibalism! Look, it’s no grosser than eating a fucking cow, which is basically a large, hairy rectangle that shits everywhere, and people do that all the time. Besides, can you really say you’ve tried all life has to offer until you’ve tasted human flesh? This suggestion, incidentally, was sponsored by the Jeffrey Dahmer Foundation for the Promotion of Fucking Eating People. Yeah, because if you thought you were getting through this blog with only serial killer joke: fuck you.

Send Secret-Diary All Your Money! Liberate yourself from the shackles of worldly possessions! Go on, you know you want to.

Right that about does it for this New Year. Happy fucking 2021, ye scabrous bell-ends. I’ll expect yer cheques in the post.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #new years resolutions #new years resolution #resolution #happy new year #2021

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thisyearingaming · 4 years

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1997 - This Year in Gaming

Muggins here was born in ‘97, and can’t really remember much of it, natch. But there were some good things released this year - I’ve played every one of these, and have missed so many more.

Diablo - Windows, January 3rd

We start with dungeon-crawl-em-up and well-loved out of season April Fool’s Joke, Diablo. I’ll be totally honest - I don’t like Diablo that much. It’s absolutely fine, I just can’t get into it. The writing, setting and characters are all very good especially since this year only marks the beginning of games being seen as a bit more adult and intelligent. Check out this gameplay from Hour of Oblivion on YouTube, and marvel at the faux-Scottish accent on Griswold the blacksmith.

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Mario Kart 64 - Nintendo 64, February 10th

Compared to its more recent versions, Mario Kart 64 is a veritable bloody relic of the past - solid controls and a quirky style mean it’s still a crowd pleaser to this day, but you’d be hard pressed to find anyone right now that would die on the hill of it being their favourite single-player racing experience. It’s also got some of the deepest, impenetrable lore in any medium known to the human race - why exactly is Marty the Thwomp locked up here?

Blast Corps - Nintendo 64, February 28th

February’s position as most boring month of the year is shaken up a bit by having a uniquely designed Rare game slammed into its 28-day long face. Blast Corps is the puzzle-action game where you take control of several vehicles to destroy homes and buildings in order to prevent a nuclear warhead exploding in the coolest incarnation of Cold War politicking ever seen in a video game. Calling Blast Corps a “hidden gem” these days is like calling Celeste a hidden gem - it impresses nobody and makes you look like a dick.

Turok: Dinosaur Hunter - Nintendo 64, March 4th

The N64 was home to a surprisingly large number of above-average shooters despite its muddy graphics and small cartridge space - Turok is one of these, a great FPS game where you shoot the SHIT out of dinosaurs. Brett Atwood of Billboard said it was like Doom and Tomb Raider mixed - Doom Raider, if you will. I say it isn’t - there’s no demons, and there’s no polygonal breasts to poke dinosaurs’ eyes out with!

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

What is a retrospective? A miserable little pile of opinions. I’ve only recently played through SotN for the very first time on a TOTALLY LEGITIMATE copy with a CRT filter. Bloody good (geddit?) game, that takes the repetition of its predecessors, improves on it in basically every conceivable way, and combines it with special effects and graphics that even 23 years later had me going “ooh, that looks quite good!” Symphony’s music and audio design are wonderfully paired with a deeply enjoyable experience that’ll have you saying “mm, maybe just one more room?”

Tekken 3 - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

Also releasing from the Land of the Rising Sun that day was Tekken 3, which many believe is still one of the best fighters ever made. Tekken 3′s combat is so fast and responsive that it’s better than some games made today. T3 is also the best and easiest way to knock seven shades of absolute shite out of your friends without risking a massive head injury or a trip to the headmaster’s office... where you could also challenge him, but only if he plays as my favourite Not-Guile-or-Ken character in gaming, Paul.

Sonic Jam - Sega Saturn, June 20th

The moment Sega realised that re-packaging old Mega Drive games would net them serious cash - although unlike later collections, this is a strictly Sonic affair, and has a neat little 3D world to run around in as a sort of hub world. Sonic X-Treme proved that Sonic Team would have to work hard at getting the fastest thing alive into 3D space properly: Jam is the sort of test ground for it too. It features some genuinely good emulation work for 1997, although it’s basically the gaming equivalent of going round to your grandparents at Christmas only for them to give you the exact same gifts you got in 1991, 1992 and 1994 but wrapped in a bow to make you think it’s different. What are you lookin’ at, you little blue devil?

Star Fox 64 - Nintendo 64, June 30th

So there’s this German company, right, called StarVox. Nintendo look at Europe and say “shit, we don’t want another lawsuit... after all, we’ve done three this year!”. So they give us in the PAL region the exciting title of Lylat Wars which as far as I know means absolutely fucking nothing in the context of the game. They’re still called Star Fox in-game too so what was the point? Anyway, fun 3D shooter with graphics that’ll make you do a barrel roll off the sofa and onto the power button to make the brown and green blurs a little easier on the eyes. Hello 2007, I’ve come back to make old references with you!

Carmageddon - Windows, July 30th

The game so scary it was BANNED in the UK! More like the game so fucking shit it was banned. Carmageddon is so deeply boring to play on PC that I can only imagine that Stainless Games made it tasteless by 90s standards simply to ramp up demand - much like another game we’ll be covering soon.

Herc’s Adventures - Sony PlayStation, July 31st

“And they said Kratos was the best hero? Shish... they got it wrong, sister! Hercules is clearly better... he even has a coconut weapon.” A surprisingly fun overhead action game that most people only know for... well, I’ll just embed it.

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Mega Man X4 - Sony Playstation, August 1st

A few years ago I tried playing every Mega Man game there is - I gave up at X3 because I was getting bored. Even still, Mega Man bores me - but at least the level design is good. Stay away from the Windows port. Pictured: me in the background yawning.

GoldenEye 007 - Nintendo 64, August 25th

The name’s Intro. Overused intro which I also managed to fuck up twice through the deeply editable medium of text. GoldenEye is like the Seinfeld of console shooters - playing it nowadays you’re unlikely to be amazed but holy shit there’s some absolute greatness in this game. Every sound and every piece of music in GoldenEye is permanently seared into my brain - sometimes I’ll just hear Facility or Frigate in my head alongside the door opening sound and the gentle PEW of the PP7. I mean come on, fucking listen to this and tell me Grant Kirkhope isn’t cool as all hell.

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LEGO Island - Windows, September 26th

The first open world experience I ever had was LEGO Island. It’s still quite good today, utterly deranged animation from the likes of the Infomaniac and Brickster - a cautionary tale for children that giving pizza to high-profile criminals is disastrous for the human LEGO race.

Fallout - Windows, October 10th

War never changes, but franchises do. Fallout’s legendary status in the industry is exemplified in how different it feels. Yes, we had the game Wasteland nine years prior, but until September 97 there was nothing quite like Fallout. From the chilling introduction sequence showing the ruins of the United States to the tragic ending, Fallout is an exercise in pure human misery with the brightest spots of hope it can possibly muster thrown in for good measure. What begins as a tedious isometric point-and-click RPG ends as a minigun-wielding power fantasy, before your entire worth is stripped from you at the finish line. You have 500 days to find a water chip before it’s too late, but you’re constantly being fought by terrifying Super Mutants, irradiated animals, and the biggest monster of all - humanity. See what I did there? If anything, humanity in Fallout’s setting would be the greatest unifying force possible against the horror of the outside world. But how is it? It’s dull, it’s sluggish, and it’s really hard to get into even if you’re already a fan - but push through that and it’s worthwhile to see exactly how far the series got before Todd Howard said “eh fuck it” and had the whole thing dipped into an FEV vat.

Grand Theft Auto - Sony PlayStation, October 21st

To put it simply, the first in the GTA series is now nothing but a novelty. It has an irritating camera, wonky controls, poor graphics and deeply repetitive gameplay. But thank fuck it exists, because without it the Rockstar story may have been very different indeed. It’s quintessential cops and robbers gameplay, spanning across Liberty City, Vice City and San Andreas in one game, but with maps so far removed from their modern incarnations they may as well be named “Not New York, Possibly Bristol and Orange Town”. People really fucking hated Hare Krishnas in the 20th Century, didn’t they?

Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back - Sony PlayStation, October 31

A hard one to talk about, honestly - it’s more Crash and better than the first one. It looks great, and Crash controls so well compared to his first outing. It’ll also keep you playing for 100%, fiendishly addictive and unashamedly difficult. Had a weird cover that moved with your head.

PaRappa the Rapper - Sony PlayStation, November 17th

Type type type the words into the box! (Type, type, type - uh oh - the box?)

PaRappa is a gorgeously stylised rhythm game about rapping to steal the heart of the girl of your dreams - which involves learning karate, getting your driver’s license, selling bottle caps and frogs, making a cake, desperately trying not to shit yourself, and finally performing live on stage. Every one of its segments is so well-produced that they’d genuinely sell like ghost cookies in this era of shite rap. Notable for producing the greatest Jay-Z backing track ever made.

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Sonic R - Sega Saturn, November 18th

Sonic R is absolutely FINE with vibrant textures, interesting levels, neat gimmicks and decent controls. But I’m gonna talk about its fucking AWESOME soundtrack by Richard Jacques and T.J. Davis, an eclectic mix of Europop and New Jack Swing - even thinking about it is bringing tears of absolute joy to my eyes hearing Super Sonic Racing in my head. You’ve got the main theme, Living in the City, Can You Feel the Sunshine, Back in Time, Diamond in the Sky, Work It Out and Number One - all of these are absolute club bangers and genuinely wouldn’t be out of place in a 90s disco.

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Tomb Raider II - Sony PlayStation, November 18th

Lara Croft returns to single-handedly endanger every species on Earth. TR2 is really good, the exploration and puzzle-solving aspects of the first game expanded upon here and the gunplay remaining just as punchy. Lara’s got a fully-functioning ponytail which absolutely boggles the fucking mind - a lot of work went into Lara’s hair for the 2013 reboot, so I can’t imagine the amount of man hours it took to get fluid(ish, come on, it’s the PS1 we’re talking about) hair movements in 1997.

And really, that’s all I played from 1997. I’ve left out big hitters like Quake II, Gran Turismo and Diddy Kong Racing, but I simply haven’t formed an opinion on them yet. Maybe in a future post.

Thanks for reading.

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mattelektras · 4 years

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hello, i dont know if this is something you answered before, but i was wondering, how do you choose which fonts go together in your graphics? do you have a specific idea in mind, or do you go through a couple before you decide what looks best together? they always look really beautiful

i think i have but i cant find it and i probably do things differently now. also this went off on a tangent about typography but theyre in the same vein SO.

i ABSOLUTELY flick through a few fonts before i pick one. i might have a vague idead that i want to use one bold and plain and one fancy but its 70% trial and error when it comes to actually physically putting them in the graphic

its about the VIBES

if what im editing has a more messy, artsy weathered vibe then i’ll choose a messy font. something handwritten or something that looks like paint maybe. example

for a more futuristic, minimalist vibe i’ll use something simple and non serif. example / example

you can use what comes to mind when you think of the subject matter too even if it isnt directly relevant. for example when i edit elektra i think greek > ancient greece > serif fonts

for spiderverse i think city > modern but with miles’ own art mixed in with it > both some bold no serif fonts and some more artistic, personalised fonts

for superman i think bright > bold > clear

you can also adapt those ideas to HOW you want to edit something too. for example usually when i think about editing jason i think of a messier graffiti kind of look because jason > a little bit scrappy and fighty > messy BUT one day i wanted to try a different flatter vibe for a graphic so i went flatter graphics > minimalist > sans serif > modernised

neither nat or elektra have a particularly gothic vibe but i wanted to make one work so i used blackletter fonts

i think it helps to know the types of fonts that exist too so im gonna sound like a schoolteacher for a second here but stick with me

serif - basic wings on certain letters, weight varies in different sections of the letter. used for a more old fashioned, professional, elegant look. can make something seem fancy even if it isnt

sans serif - basic no frills letters, consistent weight for the entire letter. used to be readable and give a clean, modern, polished look

slab serif - again with the serif but like. BIGGER. can make a serif font seem more up to date and bolder. visually louder, makes stuff look important and can add more character than a basic serif

blackletter - gothic, old english kind of fonts. usually used for stuff that has Ye Olden in the title. capital letters usually have added embellishments and the characters in general will be very angular with a few decorative curves. i used to hate blackletter fonts because i could never make them work but i love em nowadays because they can give that kind of.... dark look to something. i see a blackletter font n i think big ol gothic mansions and the addams family which is indeed, a vibe

decorative - best for giving character imo. theyre unique and they can take parts from a lot of other font styles but also not conform to any. theyre heavily stylised and non traditional. letters can be backwards, smaller than others, some capitalised, some not. they make stuff playful and original. kind of personal too

script - joined cursive mostly. can be handwritten or glyphs. im not a huge fan of glyphed cursive because it looks very old fashioned without that being a deliberate choice but they can work sometimes. its another style that can make something seem artsy, elegant, “”””femenine””””

that was all very boring. class is over.

going off of the types of font though, mix it up!!! use the fanciest font you can find mixed in with a basic sans serif

some singular words will evoke a different, more important vibe than others, so to exaggerate that word and make it the focus of the graphic, use a more detailed, noticeable font for that and then something lower key for the rest of it. example / example

it can work the other way around too, with the simple font being the focus of the sentence and the script for example being the ‘add on’

the above is all something sizing can come into too

kerning is the space between each letter and i find that, particularly with sans serif fonts, changing the distance between each letter can change the whole font. so if something is like. OK but theres something missing, try kerning

the same goes for keeping all the letters on the same line vs having each as a different layer and moving them separately. this and this are both the same font but the second has each letter at a different level and a different size because i wanted it to look less formal and a bit more quirky and artsy, whereas in the first i wanted bold but plain

something i always say and the one thing i took away from actually formally studying design is type it how you’d say it. do you enunciate one word of the sentence more than the others? is it a formal word or is it something fun? what part of the word or the sentence do you stress? whats the hierarchy of the information you're trying to convey? typography put literally is visual storytelling and its always helped me to think of it like that because im not actually someone who’s very creative or artistic so i like 2 think of it like. logically instead

#ps help #this is so pretentious and comes off like im the only person who knows what a serif is #which wasnt what i was going for but like. its a process #anonymous #q & a

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onepiecelover101 · 5 years

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First I’ll be doing Ace (Part 1)

Like I’ve said before the box is in my opinion an essential part of the figure because aside from the figure it’s what catches your eye too and this box real perty

The top

The Front:Such beauty such grace it’s Portgas D Ace You see him full on

The Right

The Left

The Back: MASTERLISE A culmination of sharpened technique that will not allow any compromise. Fusion of ultimate modeling power -MASTER- and beautiful style beauty -STYLISE-. The highest figure series is born here. Had it translated thru google translate

Now if you are considering buying this guy or any of them make sure you got the space for em because they are HUGE.

They are all 25cm which translates to about like 10 inches.

Pleasantly surprised to see he was just one piece. He wasn’t broken up in parts which in my opinion is a much more convenient way to go. It was just him and his stand. And his stand is very minuscule just wrap around his feet. The stand aside reminds of ice but yea I’m glad they went with that in my opinion clear is much more eye appealing than black.

LOOK INTO PART 2 FOR THE REST

#one piece #Portgas D. Ace #figure #review #one piece 20th anniversary #bandai #masterlise #one piece merch #monkey d. luffy #SABO #asl #part 1

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marvelousbirthdays · 7 years

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Happy Birthday, mcgregorswench!

September 25 - ShieldShock for @mcgregorswench

As fluffy and sweet as you can make it. Where both are clueless as to the other's connections with the Avengers, like Steve doesn't know that Darcy works with Jane and is best buds with Thor (and also happens to be Tony's sister or daughter), and Darcy doesn't realize her Steve Rogers is actually THE Steve Rogers aka Captain America.

AN: Set between The Avengers and CA:TWS. Not compliant to any canon whatsoever. Big thanks to CatrinaSL for cheerleading, some fantastic ideas when I hit a block, and betaing for me.

Written by @ibelieveinturtles

When he looked back on everything, Steve found it completely amazing—miraculous, even—that he and Darcy had known each other for so long, without knowing who the other really was.

Two days after the battle in New York, he signed a confidential contract with S.H.I.E.L.D., including clauses covering secrecy, confidentiality, and anonymity. In other words, don't tell anyone anything, up to and including, who you really are.

When they offered him a new identity, however, he turned it down.

“I've lost everything else already—you can't have that,” he told Fury, in no uncertain terms.

Fury offered a compromise: “You can keep everything except your year of birth. The council wants everyone's identities kept secret—well, as much as we can—but if anyone does get curious or recognise you, tell ‘em you're a distant cousin. Families throw up look alikes all the time. I’m the spitting image of my great granddaddy on my mother’s side, so ‘Captain America’s third cousin twice removed’ shouldn’t be a hard sell, even for you.”

Deal done, Steven Grant Rogers, born 4th July 1988, headed off to Culver University, where he enrolled in summer classes, studying Modern History, and a unit of independent learning, custom-designed to ease him into the new century before he took up his new position at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Washington DC headquarters.

He met Darcy on the first day. Overwhelmed by the crowds of people, the noise, and already wondering if he'd made a mistake, he ran straight into her.

They collided with the force of a thousand supernovas… Well, the bump was hard enough to knock her off balance, and Steve barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Woah, I got ya,” Steve said, as he carefully set her back on her feet.

“Thanks for the save, dude,” the young woman said a little breathlessly. “Sorry about that. Serves me right for texting and walking, I guess.” She waved her phone at him, and he couldn’t help noticing the stylised drawing of Thor on the case. It matched the t-shirt she was wearing, and the messenger bag slung across her body.

“No, it was entirely my fault,” Steve protested. “I wasn't paying attention. I'm the one who should be sorry.”

“First time here?” she asked.

“Um, yeah. It's a little overwhelming,” he looked around at the crowded, noisy courtyard. “I've never actually done anything like this before.”

“You’ll get used to it in no time,” she assured him, adding a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Culver! I'm Darcy,” she said, holding her hand out.

“Steve,” he said, taking her hand. “I hope you're right. I have no idea what I'm doing.”

She studied him for a moment. “Gimme one second.” She did something with her phone, and then looked up again. “Look, I don’t have to be anywhere for a couple of hours, and I know from experience how overwhelming it can be. How about I give you some tips about getting around over coffee?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I don't want to inconvenience you,” he hedged.

“Hey, no sweat, dude. I'm in desperate need of coffee anyway, so you'd be doing me a favour.”

Steve smiled, deciding right there and then that there was no way he was going to turn her down. “Well, in that case, I could definitely use the help.”

Ten minutes later they were seated in a small cafe with food and coffee, and she was giving him a brief history of the college.

“And then a few years ago, The Hulk showed up and wrecked half the school. Thank God, I wasn't here for that! Apparently it was a super clusterfuck.”

“The Hulk was here?” Steve made the appropriate noises of shock and surprise, even though Bruce had told him all about the incident when suggesting Culver as something to do for a few months.

Darcy nodded, shoving some fries into her mouth. “There’s a rumour that he used to teach here. I mean, I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the STEM departments have kind of adopted him as their unofficial mascot.” She leaned closer to him, as if about to impart a secret. “Personally, I think he’s pretty awesome, especially after what happened in New York—I mean, he saved Iron Man's life! A raging, mindless monster wouldn't have done that.“

“No… no, you’re right about that,” Steve said, and then angled for a change of subject. “So, what are you studying?”

“Well, I’ve already got a degree in Political Science, and now I’m working on my Masters in International Relations. You know, diplomacy, public relations, negotiation, that sort of thing.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. What will you be able to do with that?”

“A lot of different things! I’ve already got a couple of options, but I’m gonna stick with my current boss for now; she’s my best friend, and we’ve been through a lot together. I don’t really need to make a decision yet, so I won’t.” She punctuated the remark by snapping her teeth on the last fry, and grinning at him. “So, I’m actually thinking that this might be easiest if I give you a guided tour. What do you think?”

After all this time, Steve still thought that accepting her offer of a guided tour was the best decision he’d ever made.

~*~

As luck would have it, Darcy’s boss was currently based in Washington DC, and they soon settled into a completely random, not-routine of seeing each other whenever they were both in the city. Between his "job” in International Search and Rescue, and her frequent field trips with the Boss Lady, it was impossible to keep to a set schedule.

On one sad, Steveless day, Darcy arrived home from a long day of Jane-herding and was staring into her fridge debating between cooking or ordering pizza, when Steve texted her. He was home— pizza it was!

She could feel the goofy grin paste itself across her face as she hit send on her reply. Steve had only been away for a week, but she'd been surprised by how much she missed him.

The pizza arrived first, but she'd barely set the boxes down before her intercom chimed again. She buzzed Steve in, and finished setting the table.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hi,” Steve said, kissing her on the cheek and presenting her with flowers he bought on his way over.

“Oh, they're beautiful. Thank you.” She stepped aside to let him in, then led him to the kitchen.

“How was your trip?” she asked as she hunted through her cupboards for something vase-like.

“Well, it was a slow week,” he said, remembering how they'd spent four days tracking a giant space slug in the Amazon jungle. “But we got the job done. What about you? How was yours?”

“Same old, same old,” Darcy replied, giving up on her quest to find a vase. She turned back to Steve. “Boss Lady had a breakthrough, and is determined to give the entire scientific community the proverbial finger.” (She carefully didn't mention that the breakthrough was actually to another dimension. They'd been lucky to get it closed before it caused any problems.)

“Well, I can't wait to see that,” Steve said.

“It'll be a good memory, I guarantee it,” she agreed. She tilted her head to one side as an idea popped into her head. “Do you have any objections to these flowers living in a jug?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. We'll go vase shopping tomorrow.”

She dumped the flowers in an ugly old plastic jug, filled it with water, and set it on the counter.

“Perfect,” Steve said, taking her in his arms and planting a firm kiss on her mouth.

They spent the whole of the following afternoon scouring the city for the perfect vase. As it turned out, there were three perfect vases in the city of Washington DC, so Steve bought her two more bouquets. After helping her arrange them throughout her apartment, it hit him that he'd rather be here than anywhere else. The only time he stayed at his own apartment was when Darcy was away on a field trip with the woman he still only knew as Boss Lady. More than half of his wardrobe had taken up residence in her cupboards, and other random belongings are scattered throughout.

It got him thinking.

~*~

The first time he asked Darcy to marry him, they'd been officially dating for about a year. It didn’t seem like it had been that long, but he'd fallen head over heels, and wanted to tell her everything.

They were coiled together in a post-orgasmic haze, and it just kind of… slipped out. She laughed. Actually laughed. “Fantastic sex, a good marriage does not make,” she said. “I love you, but I'm not ready to get married just yet.”

She didn't say yes, but it wasn't an outright no, either.

He managed to wait a couple of months before asking again, but once again it was a spur of the moment thing. Boss Lady had decided to go to London for a few months, and he was petrified that she’d forget him, or not come back, or that they’d drift apart, or… he’s not sure about that last ‘or’.

She sighed, but it was a loving sigh, not a ‘what the hell’ sigh. “Steeeve. Honey.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and stared into his eyes. “You know I love you, right? But marriage isn’t a spur of the moment thing. Now, kiss me—I’m not going to see you for the next three months, and I need something to get me through!”

He kissed her thoroughly, and once again took heart from the fact that she didn’t actually say no.

He didn’t hear about the Dark Elves until well after the fact—blackout missions didn’t happen very often, but this one had lasted a month, and he felt every second of it by the time they got back. He’d left his civilian, Darcy-only phone in his locker, but Fury had insisted on an immediate debrief before they even had a chance to shower, so the first he heard of it was from a fragment of conversation that drifted out of a break room as he walked along the corridor towards the changerooms.

He headed straight for his locker and his Darcy phone.

The first message was ‘Shit, I’ve lost the Boss Lady,’ followed by, ‘Why won’t anyone answer their goddam phone today?’ and ‘IT’S OKAY I’M ALIVE!!’ and finally ending with, ‘Boss Lady’s boyfriend is back!! Staying in London for now, but will be back in DC soon. Call me when you can.’

He hadn’t even known that Boss Lady had a boyfriend.

He called straight away.

“I just got back,” he said. “What in seven hells happened?”

“Steve! I was starting to worry about you!”

“Sorry, we lost all our communication in a storm.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough, he decided.

“Well, to make a long story super short, evil elves invaded London, and Thor saved us all,” Darcy said.

“What? Evil elves? Thor? You mean, like the Avengers Thor? I didn’t think anyone had seen him since New York!” Steve was flabbergasted. No one had said anything to him about Thor returning.

“They hadn’t, but he just showed up out of nowhere! Look it up on YouTube; there’s so many videos, even the jack-booted thugs couldn’t keep up. They gave up trying to take them down about three days after it happened.”

“Can I come and see you?” Steve asked. “My boss owes me a few days—”

“YES!” Darcy shouted down the phone. “But I’ll book us a hotel, okay? Trust me, you do not want to stay with us now that The Boyfriend is back.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go home, pack a bag, and jump on the first plane I can,” he said. “I’ll let you know all the details, and I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Darcy replied. “I miss you so much. Oh god, I’m so excited now, Steve! Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay. I’m hurrying. I’ll call you from the airport.”

He wrangled a whole week’s worth of leave out of Fury (on the condition that he touched base with Thor while he was there) and proposed for the third time at the top of the London Eye. Darcy said he was affected by the view, but once again didn’t say yes, but didn’t say no either. In fact, she didn’t even say “not yet."

~*~

Darcy glanced at the clock and checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. Steve’s boss had called him earlier in the day, and asked him to check in with a client while he was in London. Even though he was on vacation, and they had a dinner reservation, he’d agreed to run the errand. He’d rung her half an hour ago to say that the meeting had gone much longer than he’d expected, and that he would meet her there.

She grabbed her purse and phone, opened the door, and standing there with a hand raised, ready to knock, was her father.

“Oh,” she gasped. “Jesus, Tony. You almost scared me half to death. What are you doing here? And how did you find me?”

“I’m here for a thing, so I thought I'd drop by,” Tony replied with a self satisfied grin. “Foster told me where you were.”

“Why were you talking to Jane?” she asked, suspicion hijacking her brain and refusing to let go. “Are you trying to convince her to sign with SI again?”

“I came to see Thor,” Tony said, “and then Capsicle showed up too—I wasn't expecting that. We had an extra long lunch, it was nice. But to answer your question, of course I am; how else am I going to get you to come home?”

“Even if she does agree to work with you, I’m not living in the Tower, Tony. I like my independence.”

“So you keep saying. Anyway, I didn’t actually come here to debate your residence in the Tower. Would you like to have dinner with me? I'll invite Cap as well.”

“You can't do that. Anyway, I have a date,” Darcy blurted out.

“Ah, I see. Everyone's turning me down tonight. Even Spangles turned me down! What could he have to do that's better than spending time with me?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I can think of a few things.”

“You wound me!” Tiny gasped in mock offense. “So your date tonight. Still the same guy? The one from DC?”

“Yes,” she replied, stepping out the door and pulling it closed behind her.

"When do I get to meet him?” Tony asked, following her to the elevator.

Darcy pushed the button, then turned and gave him a stern look. “Tony—Dad—I love you, but you're still you. And you're Iron Man. Remember those new security protocols Fury put in place last year? I literally need to marry the guy before I can introduce him to my own father, but how can I marry someone when I'm hiding such a big thing from them?”

Tony kissed Darcy in the middle of her forehead.

“The whole world already knows I'm Iron Man,” he shrugged. “That rule should not apply to me. If your guy can't handle that, you're better off without him.”

Darcy smiled. “And then you can introduce me to Captain America, right?”

Tony grinned. “My Steve is way better than your Steve,” he declared.

“Oh my god, Tony! You know you shouldn't even be telling me his name!” Darcy protested as the elevator arrived. “Just because I'm already associated with you and Thor, DOES NOT mean I automatically get to know any other Avengers!”

“I can change that!” Tony said, following her onto the lift. “The Avengers could use someone like you. I get you on the payroll, and everything would be perfect.”

Darcy frowned. There was a reason she’d chosen International Relations for her Masters, even if she hadn’t really acknowledged it at the time. “I’ll think about it,” she said at last. “But I still need to finish my thesis, and since the convergence Jane’s gotten enthused again. She’s got a lot to study over here.”

Tony nodded. “I understand. Also—and I shouldn’t be telling you this by the way—S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be asking Thor to help them out occasionally. They’ll probably lean on him and Foster to come back to the States sooner, rather than later.”

“Hah!” Darcy snapped. “When they didn’t even answer my phone calls when Jane went missing, and then didn’t show up until after everything was all over? Not if I have anything to do with it, Tony. No. Fucking. Way. I'd rather she work for you!”

Tony threw his arm around her shoulder and hugged her tightly. “That’s my girl.”

They exited the elevator, and made their way outside.

“How are you getting to your date?” Tony asked, handing his valet slip to the attendant. “Can I give you a ride?”

“Well, I was gonna take a cab, but yeah, I'd like that.”

The ride to the restaurant wasn't a long one, and halfway there Darcy gathered her courage.

“I'm thinking that when I get back to DC I might ask Steve to move in with me ,” she said.

“Again: when do I get to meet him?”

“Tony! He keeps asking me to marry him. Three times in six months... and I want to say yes, but I'm scared about what might happen when he finds out about you, and Jane, and Thor. I thought, maybe living together first would be a good way to see if we'll really work or not.”

“That sounds reasonable to me,” Tony said. “But you have to tell him about me first, and I want to be behind the door as exhibit A when it happens.”

Darcy laughed as her father pulled into the curb half a block down from her destination. “You're incorrigible.”

“It's one of my better talents,” Tony quipped. “Come and see me when you get home. I'll be waiting!”

~*~

Darcy, Boss Lady, and The Boyfriend returned to DC on Christmas Eve. Steve was already at her apartment, having let himself in with the key she'd given him before he left London. He tidied and dusted, then went out and found what was possibly the last decent Christmas tree in the city.

By the time she arrived home, the tree was decorated, dinner was in the oven, and Steve was watching the cheesiest Christmas movie he could find.

“Oh my God, could you get any more perfect?” Darcy asked once she'd recovered from his welcome home kiss.

“I didn't actually cook,” he admitted. “It's from a restaurant a friend recommended.”

“I don't care—it smells amazing.”

They ate in front of the movie, then Steve insisted Darcy shower while he cleaned up.

“You know, I could get used to this,” Darcy said later, curled around him as they lay in bed. ��Coming home to dinner, and a homey apartment… and you.” She lifted her head to look at him. “I think you should move in with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. You practically live here already, why not make it official?”

Steve could think of plenty of reasons why he should say no; the main ones being S.H.I.E.L.D. and not being able to tell her who he really was.

“You don't have to decide straight away,” she continued, “I know it's a big decision. Just... think about it?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Steve tried to put off thinking about his dilemma and just enjoy the time he had with Darcy. He succeeded, mostly, allowing himself to make endless pros vs. cons lists only after she fell asleep at night. Three days later, when he got called out on a mission, it was harder to push out of his mind. In Darcy’s presence he could forget anything unpleasant; in an abandoned bunker stuffed with undecipherable technology, it wasn’t so easy. As he watched Tony take apart a piece of modified electronics, Steve decided to take the opportunity to talk to someone who wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What's up, Cap?” Tony asked, elbow-deep in computer components.

“My girlfriend asked me to move in with her.”

Tony paused and looked at him. “You have a girlfriend?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“And she asked you to move in with her?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Does she know who you are?”

Steve sighed. “That's the problem—she doesn't. I want to tell her, but I can't.”

Tony nodded. “Fury’s security protocols. Do you love her?”

“More than I ever dreamed,” Steve admitted. “I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd just say yes.”

“Have you asked her?” Tony asked.

“Three times now,” Steve said with a self deprecating smile. “She just says she's not ready for marriage, and changes the subject.”

Tony put his tools down and straightened up, turning to look at Steve. “Three times? Has she actually said no?”

Steve shook his head, a little unnerved by the fact that Tony was ignoring his work to have a personal conversation. “No, just ‘not yet’.”

Tony stared, blinked, then stared some more.

“Tony? Is something wrong?”

“Out of curiosity... have you met her parents yet? Her father?”

“No, but... I thought people didn’t care so much about that sort of thing nowadays.”

Tony shook his head. “Never mind; nothing to worry about. I think you should do it. Move in with your girl, show her you're serious, and maybe you'll get that yes so you can come clean.”

“I would, but I wonder… What if she doesn't want Captain America in her life?”

“If she really loves you, she'll come around.” Tony turned back to his work. “She'll probably be really mad at first, but that's always a risk in any relationship. There's always something that’s gonna make someone mad. You just have to get through it.”

“Voice of experience?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “Take the chance, Cap. Take the chance.”

~*~

(When Tony got home, the first thing he did was ask Jarvis for the security footage from his daughter's apartment block during Christmas. When his suspicions were confirmed, he laughed for a solid five minutes.)

~*~

Steve’s S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment was exactly that: an apartment belonging to S.H.I.E.L.D. It came fully furnished, and he had never been one to collect much, so there was very little in it that belonged to him. It took him half a morning to pack up his stuff, and he was all moved in with Darcy by New Year’s.

As he sat on Darcy’s couch, arm around his girl, watching fireworks, and waiting for 2014 to start, he realised that he hadn't felt this happy—this comfortable, so at home—since he'd woken up almost two years ago. A neuron fired in his brain, and he knew: this was what he'd wanted his whole life.

As the clock ticked down, he closed his eyes and made a wish. For a good year. For Darcy to say yes to his next proposal (which he was determined to do properly this time: ring, knee, the lot). For Darcy to be okay with him being the Real Steve Rogers (and Captain America).

As the last seconds counted down, Darcy turned to him and smiled.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” she said, eyes shining as she leaned up to kiss him.

~*~

Steve's last proposal was planned properly.

Ring, dinner, flowers, speech. Everything done right.

Whenever they can, they rendezvous at the subway station after work and then walk home together through the park. Some days they talk a lot; some days they don't. On this particular day, they were both lost in their own thoughts, when Darcy stopped suddenly.

“Darce?”

“I'm ready for you to meet my father,” she said.

“Um, okay?”

“And… I want to marry you,” she continued. “If you still want to marry me, that is.”

He stared at her for a moment, gobsmacked at what she'd just said to him, and then he started laughing. He couldn't help it.

“Okay, I'm not sure if you laughing at me is a good sign?” Darcy looked equal parts worried and amused. “I never laughed at you!”

“I'm sorry.” He gathered her up in his arms, and hugged her tightly. “It's just, I finally planned out a proper proposal, and you blurt it out while we're walking through the park.”

“You planned a proposal?” She blinked at him.

He pulled the box out of his pocket. “There's flowers and dinner at home, but I've had this in my pocket for a few weeks now.” He opened the box.

“That's a really nice ring,” was all she said.

“It is,” he agreed. “And I think it would look nicer on your finger.”

She looked down at the ring again, and he held his breath. “Yes. You're right. It would look nicer on my finger.”

“Does that mean you're going to wear it?”

“I do have a few things I should probably tell you first; I don't know if you're going to like them." she said.

“Me too, but you wanna give me an answer first? Please?”

“Hang on, didn't I just propose to you?”

“Yes, you did, and yes I will. Whatever secrets you have, I will deal with them,” Steve said solemnly.

“In that case, yes, Steve. I will most definitely marry you, and ditto on the secrets. Now gimme that ring!”

He put the ring on her finger, and she flung her arms around him, kissing him breathless.

“Let's go home.”

#ShieldShock #fuckyeahdarcylewis

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aclockworkfilmsnob · 7 years

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INT. KOROVA MILKBAR NIGHT Tables, chairs made of nude fibreglass figures. Hypnotic atmosphere. Alex, Pete, Georgie and Dim, teenagers stoned on their milk-plus, their feet resting on faces, crotches, lips of the sculptured furniture. ALEX (V.O.) There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim and we sat in the Korova milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. The Korova Milk Bar sold milkplus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence. Our pockets were full of money so there was no need on that score, but, as they say, money isn't everything. INT. PEDESTRIAN UNDERPASS TUNNEL ó NIGHT A Tramp lying in tunnel, singing. TRAMP In Dublin's fair city Where the girls are so pretty I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone As she wheeled her wheelbarrow Through streets wide and narrow... Shadows of the boys approaching fall across Tramp. TRAMP Crying cockless and mussels alive, Alive O... Alive, alive O... Alive, alive O... Crying cockless and mussels alive, Alive O... ALEX (V.O.) One thing I could never stand is to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blerp, blerp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was. The boys stop and applaud him. TRAMP Can you... can you spare some cutter, me brothers? Alex rams his stick into the Tramp's stomach. The boys laugh. TRAMP Oh-hhh!!! Go on, do me in you bastard cowards. I don't want to live anyway, not in a stinking world like this. ALEX Oh ó and what's so stinking about it? TRAMP It's a stinking world because there's no law and order any more. It's a stinking world because it lets the young get onto the old like you done. It's no world for an old man any more. What sort of a world is it at all? Men on the moon and men spinning around the earth and there's not no attention paid to earthly law and order no more. The Tramp starts singing again. TRAMP Oh dear land, I fought for thee and brought you peace and victory. Alex and gang move in and start beating up on old Tramp. INT. DERELICT CASINO ó NIGHT Billyboy gang on stage tearing clothes off a screaming Girl. ALEX (V.O.) It was around by the derelict casino that we came across Billyboy and his four droogs. They were getting ready to perform a little of the old in-out, in-out on a weepy young devotchka they had there. Alex and gang step out of the shadows. ALEX Ho, Ho, Ho... Well, if it isn't stinking Billygoat Billyboy in poison. How are thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou. Billyboy snaps open a switchblade knife. BILLY BOY Let's get 'em boys. The fight begins, chains, knives, kicking boots. Police siren. ALEX The Police... come on, let's go... come on. Alex and the boys rush out of casino. EXT. / INT. CAR ó NIGHT ó FAST DRIVING SHOTS Swerving car, forcing other cars off the road, trying to hit pedestrians, etc. ALEX (V.O.) The Durango-95 purred away real horrorshow ó a nice, warm vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts. Soon it was trees and dark, my brothers, with real country dark. We fillied around for a while with other travelers of the night, playing hogs of the road. Then we headed west, what we were after now was the old surprise visit, that was a real kick and good for laughs and lashing of the ultra-violent. EXT. "HOME" ó NIGHT A cottage on its own, on outskirts of a village. Bright moonlight. Cheery light inside. Car pulls to stop. Alex shushes his giggling boys and gets out of the car. INT. "HOME" ó NIGHT Mr. Alexander typing. Bell rings. MR. ALEXANDER Who on earth could that be? MRS. ALEXANDER I'll see. Mrs. Alexander, a good-looking red head in a red jumper suit. MRS. ALEXANDER Yes? Who is it? ALEX Excuse me, Mrs... will you please help, there's been a terrible accident. She opens the door on the chain and peeps out. ALEX My friend's lying in the middle of the road bleeding to death. Could I please use your telephone for an ambulance? MRS. ALEXANDER I'm sorry, but we don't have a telephone. You'll have to go somewhere else. ALEX But Mrs... it's a matter of life and death. From inside the sound of clack clacky clack clack clackity clackclack of Alexander typing stops. MR. ALEXANDER Who is it, dear? MRS. ALEXANDER There's a young man here. He says there's been an accident. He wants to use the telephone. MR. ALEXANDER Then you'd better let him in. MRS. ALEXANDER Wait a minute. ALEX Thank you, Mrs. Mrs. Alexander opens door, saying... MRS. ALEXANDER I'm sorry, we don't usually let people in the middle of the night. Alex and boys have put on their masks and rush into house, carrying and dragging Mrs. Alexander along with them. INT. HOME ó NIGHT They go roaring in. Mr. Alexander is kicked in the face and goes down. Georgie leaps on him. Pete jumps up and down and the settee. Dim grabs hold of Mrs. Alexander. Alex whistles piercingly. ALEX Right, Pete. Check the rest of the house. Alex turns to Dim who holds the struggling Mrs. Alexander. ALEX Dim... Dim sets her down but holds her firmly. Alex starts to sing ó "Singin' in the Rain", accompanying it with a kind of tap dance. ALEX (singing) I'm singing in the rain... He kicks Mr. Alexander accenting the lyrics. ALEX (singing) Just singing in the rain... He clubs Mr. Alexander with stick, in the time to the music. ALEX (singing) What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again. He pushes a rubber ball into Mrs. Alexander's mouth and binds it with sellotape. ALEX (singing) I'm laughing at clouds so dark up above. The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love. Let the stormy clouds chase... He kicks Mr. Alexander again. ALEX (singing) ... everyone from the place. Come on with the rain... He puts ball in Mr. Alexander's mouth and sellotapes it. ALEX (singing) ... I've a smile on my face. I'll walk down the lane... to a happy refrain. I'm singing... just singin' in the rain. He knocks down the book cases and moves to Mrs. Alexander being held by Dim. Starts to repeat on song as he cuts slowly up each leg of her cat suit, until she is naked. This coincidences with the song finishing. He turns to Mr. Alexander. ALEX Viddy well, my little Brother. Viddy well. INT. KOROVA MILKBAR ó NIGHT The boys enter yawning.. ALEX (V.O.) We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure, O my brothers, so we got rid of the auto and stopped off at the Korova for a nightcap. Dim moves over to milk machine and speaks to the statue of the nude girl. DIM Hello Lucy, had a busy night? Puts money in machine. DIM We've been working hard too. Takes glass. DIM Pardon me. Luce. He raises glass to breast, pulls red handle between her legs. Milk spurts into glass. Dim joins the others. Alex looks at a party of tourists. ALEX (V.O.) There was some sophistos from the TV studios around the corner, laughing an govoreeting. The Devotchka was smecking away, and not caring about the wicked world one bit. Then the disc on the stereo twanged off and out, and in the short silence before the next one came on, she suddenly came with a burst of singing, and it was like for a moment, O my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar and I felt all the malenky little hairs on my plott standing endwise, and the shivers crawling up like slow malenky lizards and then down again. Because I knew what she sang. It was a bit from the glorious 9th, by Ludwig van. Dim makes a lip-trump followed by a dog howl, followed by two fingers pronging twice in the air, followed by a clowny guffaw. Alex brings his stick down smartly on Dim's legs. DIM What did you do that for? ALEX For being a bastard with no manners and not a dook of an idea how to comport yourself publicwise, O my Brother. DIM I don't like you should do what you done. And I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be. ALEX Watch that... Do watch that, O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou dost wish. DIM Yarbles, great bolshy yarblockos to you I'll meet you with chain, or nozh or britva, any time, not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. It stands to reason, I won't have it. ALEX A nozh scrap any time you say. Dim weakens. DIM Doobidoob... a bit tired maybe, everybody is. A long night for growing malchicks... best not to say more. Bedways is rigthways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right, right. INT. ALEX'S FLATBLOCK ó MAIN LOBBY ENTRANCE ó NIGHT Alex passes a mural in the hall. Nude men and women. Their massive stylised bodies embellished and decorated by handy pencil and ballpoint. The elevator door is buckled. INT. ALEX'S FLAT ó NIGHT Alex pees in toilet. Alex goes into his room. Tosses his loot into a drawer, full of money, wristwatches, cameras, etc. Fifty small loudspeakers cover one wall. He puts his pet boa constrictor on tree branch mounted on the wall, above four Christ figures who have their arms intertwined like a chorus line. He puts a cassette into the tape player. A heavy shockwave of sound ó Beethoven's 9th. ALEX (V.O.) It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now to give it the perfect ending was a bit of the old Ludwig van. Music starts. ALEX (V.O.) Then, brothers, it came. O bliss, bliss and heaven, oh it was gorgeousness and georgeosity made flesh. The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise, silver-flamed and there by the door the timps rolling through my guts and out again, crunched like candy thunder. It was like a bird of rarest spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a space ship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures. There were veeks and ptitsas laying on the ground screaming for mercy and I was smecking all over my rot and grinding my boot into their tortured litsos and there were naked devotchkas ripped and creeching against walls and I plunging like a shlaga into them. INT. ALEX'S FLAT ó DAY He is asleep. The boa curled up at his feet. There is a knock on the door. ALEX What d'you want? EM It's past eight, Alex, you don't want to be late for school, son. ALEX Bit of pain in the gulliver, Mum. Leave us be and I'll try to sleep it off... then I'll be as right as dodgers for this after. EM You've not been to school all week, son. ALEX I've got to rest, Mum... got to get fit, otherwise I'm liable to miss a lot more school. EM Eeee... I'll put your breakfast in the oven. I've got to be off myself now. ALEX Alright, Mum... have a nice day at the factory. INT. KITCHEN ó DAY Pee sitting at breakfast table. Em enters. EM He's not feeling too good again this morning, Dad. PEE Yes, I heard. D'you know what time he got in last night? EM No I don't know, luv, I'd taken my sleepers. PEE I wonder where exactly is it he goes to work of evenings. EM Well, like he says, it's mostly odd things he does, helping like... here and there, as it might be. INT. EM'S BEDROOM ó DAY Alex comes out of his room and finds P.R. Deltoid sitting on bed in parent's room. ALEX Hi, hi, hi there, Mr. Deltoid, funny surprise to see you here. DELTOID Ah, Alex boy, awake at last, yes? I met your mother on the way to work, yes? She gave me the key. She said something about a pain somewhere... hence not at school , yes? ALEX A rather intolerable pain in the head, brother, sir. I think it should be clear by this afterlunch. DELTOID Oh, or certainly by this evening, yes? The evening's a great time, isn't it, Alex boy? ALEX A cup of the old chai, sir? DELTOID No time, no time, yes. Sit, sit, sit. Alex sits next to him. ALEX To what do I owe this extreme pleasure, sir? Anything wrong, sir? Deltoid "playfully" grabs Alex's hair. DELTOID Wrong? Why should you think of anything being wrong, have you been doing something you shouldn't. Yes? He shakes Alex's hair. ALEX Just a manner of speech, sir. DELTOID Well, yes, it's just a manner of speech from your Post Corrective Advisor to you that you watch out, little Alex. He puts his arm round Alex's shoulder. DELTOID Because next time it's going to be the barry place and all my work ruined. If you've no respect for your horrible self, you at least might have some for me who'se sweated over you. He slaps Alex on the knee. DELTOID A big black mark I tell you for every one we don't reclaim. A confession of failure for every one of you who ends up in the stripy hole. ALEX I've been doing nothing I shouldn't, sir. The millicents have nothing on me, brother, sir, I mean. Deltoid pulls Alex down on the bed. DELTOID Cut out all this clever talk about milicents. Just because the Police haven't picked you up lately doesn't, as you very well know, mean that you've not been up to some nastiness. There was a bit of a nastiness last night, yes. Some very extreme nastiness, yes. A few of a certain Billyboy's friends were ambluenced off late last night, yes. Your name was mentioned, the word's got thru to me by the usual channels. Certain friends of yours were named also. Oh, nobody can prove anything about anybody as usual, but I'm warning you, little Alex, being a good friend to you as always, the one man in this sore and sick community who wants to save you from yourself. Deltoid makes a grab for Alex's joint but finds his hand instead. Alex laughs. Derisively and rises. Deltoid distractedly reaches for a glass of water on the night table, and fails to notice a set of false teeth soaking in them. He drinks from the glass. The clink of the teeth sounding like ice-cubes. DELTOID What gets into you all? We study the problem. We've been studying it for damn well near a century, yes, but we get no further with our studies. You've got a good home here, good loving parents, you've got not too bad of a brain. Is it some devil that crawls inside of you? ALEX Nobody's got anything on me, brother, sir. I've been out of the rookers of the milicents for a long time now. DELTOID That's just worries me. A bit too long to long to be reasonable. You're about due now by my reckoning, that's why I'm warning you, little Alex, to keep your handsome young proboscis out of the dirt. Do I make myself clear? ALEX As an unmuddied lake, sir. Clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, sir. Deltoid drinks again but this time sees the teeth in the glass. He groans and retches. INT. MUSIC BOOTICK ó DAY Alex enters. Two pretty micro-boppers, Marty and Sonietta, sucking phallic ice sticks. ALEX Pardon me, brother. I ordered this two weeks ago. Could you see if it's arrived. CLERK OK. I'll see if it's in. Clerk exits. Alex turns to the girls. ALEX Pardon me, ladies He steps in between them and goes through the motions, looking through. ALEX Enjoying it then, my darling?... A bit cold and pointless isn't it, my lovely... What's happened to yours, my little sister? Marty giggles. MARTY Who you getten bratty, Goggly Gogol? Johnny Zhivago? The Heaven Seventeen? ALEX What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little save pitiful portable picnic players. Come with Uncle and hear all proper. Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited. INT. ALEX'S BEDROOM ó DAY The two girls, naked, jumping up and down on Alex's still unmade bed zonked by the booming, all engulfing sound of Alex's incredible Hi-Fi. INT. ALEX'S FLATBLOCK ó LOBBY HALL ó DAY Alex finds the gang waiting for him. ALEX Hi, hi, hi, there ALL THREE Well, hello. DIM He are here! He have arrived! Hooray! ALEX Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit? Georgie rises. GEORGIE We got worried. There we were waiting and drinking away at the old knify Moloko and you had not turned up and we thought you might have been like offended by something or other, so around we come to your abode. ALEX Appy polly loggies. I had something of a pain in the gulliver so had to sleep. I was not awakened when I gave orders for awakening. DIM Sorry about the pain. Using the gulliver to much like, eh? Giving orders and disciplining and that perhaps, eh? You sure the pain's gone? You sure you'll not be happier back up in bed. ALEX Lets get things nice and sparkling clear. This sarcasm, if I may call it such, does not become you, O my brothers. As I am your droog and leader, I am entitled to know what goes on, eh? Now then, Dim, what does that great big horsy gape of a grin portend? GEORGIE All right, no more picking on Dim, brother. That's part of the new way. ALEX New way? What's this about a new way? There's been some very large talk behind my sleeping back, and no error. Let me hear more. GEORGIE Well, we go round shop crasting and the like, coming out with a pitiful rookerful of money each. DIM Pitiful rookerful... GEORGIE And there's Will the English in the Muscleman coffee mesto saying he can fence anything that anything that any malchick tries to crast. DIM Yeah... Pete the English. GEORGIE The shiny stuff. The Ice. The big, big, big money is available's what Will the English says. DIM Big, big money. ALEX And what will you do with the big, big, money? Have you not everything you need? If you need a motor-car, you pluck it from the trees. If you need pretty polly, you take it. GEORGIE Brother, you think and talk sometimes like a little child. Tonight we pull a mansize crast. ALEX Good. Real horrorshow. Initiative comes to them as waits. I've taught you much, my little droogies. Now tell me what you have in mind, Georgie Boy. GEORGIE Oh, the old moloko-plus first, would you not say DIM Moloko-plus. GEORGIE Something to sharpen us up, you especially. We have the start. EXT. FLATBLOCK MARINE ó DAY The gang come out of the flatblock and walk along the marina. ALEX (V.O.) As we walked along the flatblock marina, I was calm on the outside but thinking all the time, so now it was to be Georgie the General, saying what we should do and what not to do, and Dim as his mindless, grinning bulldog. But, suddenly, I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends, for now it was lovely music that came to my aid and I viddied at once what to do. There was a window open with the stereo on. IN SLOW MOTION Alex clubs Georgie into water with his stick. Dim swings chain. Alex ducks. Dim goes into water. Alex kneels, hands behind back, takes knife from sword stick, offers hand to help Dim, and slashes Dim when he gets it. Dim falls back into the water. Alex laughs. INT. DUKE OF NEW YORK PUB The four boys sit round table. ALEX (V.O.) I had not put into any of Dim's main cables and so, with the help of a clean tashtook, the red, red kroovy stopped, and it did not take long to quieten the two wounded soldiers, down in the snug in the Duke of New York. Now they knew who was Master and Leader. Sheep, thought I, but a real leader knows always when like to give and show generous to his unders. ALEX Well, now we're back to where we were. Yes? Just like before and all forgotten? Right, right, right. ALL BOYS Right. Right. Right. ALEX Well, Georgie Boy. This idea you've got for tonight. Well, tell us all about it then. GEORGIE Not tonight ó not this nochy. ALEX Come, come, come, Georgie Boy. You're a big strong chelloveck like us all. We're not little children, are we, Georgie Boy? What, then, didst thou in thy mind have? Confrontation. Georgie backs down. GEORGIE It's this Health Farm. A bit out of the town. Isolated. It's owned by this like very rich ptitsa who lives there with her cats. The place is shut down for a week and she's completely on her own, and it's full up with like gold and silver and like jewels. ALEX Tell me more, Georgie Boy. INT. CATLADY'S HOUSE Catlady doing yoga exercises. Room is full of cats. Doorbell rings. CATLADY (softly to herself) Oh shit. She goes to the door. EXT. CATLADY'S HOUSE CATLADY Who's there? ALEX Excuse me, missus, can you please help? There's been a terrible accident. Can I please use your telephone for an ambulance? CATLADY I'm frightfully sorry. There is a telephone in the Public House about a mile down the road. I suggest you use that. ALEX But, missus, this is an emergency. It's a matter of life and death. Me friend's lying in the middle of the road bleeding to death. CATLADY I... I'm very sorry, but I never open. I'm very sorry but I never open the door to strangers after dark. ALEX Very well, madam. I suppose you can't be blamed for being suspicious with so many scoundrels and rouges of the night about. Alex walks away from door, then ducks into the bushes where the others are hiding. They put on their maskies and follow Alex round to the rear of the house. ALEX Dim, bend down. (Alex points to an upstairs window) I'm gonna get in that window and open the front door. He climbs up drain-pipe to the bathroom window. INT. CADLADY'S HOUSE The Catlady enters and dials a number. CATLADY Hullo, Radlett Police Station. Good evening. It's Miss Weathers at Woodmere Health Farm. Look, I'm frightfully sorry to bother you but something rather odd has just happened... Well, it's probably nothing at all, but you never know... Well, a young man rang the bell asking to use the telephone... He said there had been some kind of accident. The thing that caught my attention was what he said ó the words he used, sounded exactly like what was quoted in the papers this morning in connection with the writer and his wife who were assaulted last night... Well, just a few minutes ago... Well, if you think that's necessary, but, well, I'm quite sure he's gone away now. Oh... alright. Fine. Thank you very much. Thank you. She puts phone down, turns and nearly jumps out of her leotard when she sees Alex in the doorway. ALEX Hi, hi, hi there, at last we meet. CATLADY What the bloody hell d'you think you're doing? ALEX Our brief govereet thru the letter hole was not, shall we say, satisfactory, yes? CATLADY Now listen here, you little bastard, just you turn around and walk out of here the same way as you came in. Alex eyes a giant white, fibreglass phallic sculpture on the table beside him. ALEX Naughty, naughty, naughty, you filthy old soomaka. CATLADY No! No! Don't touch it. That's a very important work of art. What the bloody hell do you want? ALEX You see, madam, I am part of an international student's contest to see who can get the most points for selling magazines. CATLADY Cut the shit, sonny, and get out of here before you get yourself in some very serious trouble. He rocks the giant phallus which has a special weight swinging inside causing it to swing up and down an eccentric motion. CATLADY I told you to leave it alone. Now get out of here before I throw you out, wretched slummy bedbug. I'll teach you breaking into real people's houses. Get out! She grabs up a bust of Beethoven and rushes at Alex. He grabs the giant phallic sculpture. Circling, Alex fends off her mad rushes with skilful jabs of the giant phallus. She ducks under and clobbers him with the heavy bust of Beethoven. He goes down, pulling her off balance and they both wind up the floor. In the struggle, Alex bashes her with the phallus. Distant Police sirens. He exits. EXT. CATLDAY'S HOUSE ó NIGHT Alex rushes out. Dim and the others are waiting. ALEX Come on. Let's go, the police are coming. DIM One minoota, droogie. Dim smashes Alex in the face with a full milk bottle. He goes down. The others run away, laughing. ALEX (screaming) You bastards... bastards. INT. POLICE HQ ó NIGHT Inspector takes out cigarette and lights up. INSPECTOR Right. Right , Tom, we'll have to our little friend, Alex, here that we know the law, too, but that knowing the law isn't everything. He nods to Fatneck. FATNECK That's a nasty cut you've got there, little Alex. Spoils... all your beauty. Who gave you that then... eh... eh... He presses Alex's nose, inflicting great pain. Alex sinks to his knees. ALEX Ow... what's that for, you bastard? FATNECK That was for your lady victim. You ghastly wretched scoundrel. Alex grabs his balls. Alex is beaten by the other Cop. Inspector exits to outside office where Sergeant sits, sipping a cup of tea. Deltoid has just entered. INSPECTOR Sergeant. SERGEANT Sir. INSPECTOR Ah, good evening, Mr. Deltoid. DELTOID Evening, Inspector. SERGEANT Would you like your tea now, sir? INSPECTOR No, thank you, Sergeant. We'll have it later. May I have some paper towels, please. SERGEANT Yes, sir. INSPECTOR We're interrogating the prisoner now. Perhaps you'd care to come inside. DELTOID Thank you very much They move into Interrogation Room. Alex is on the floor in the corner covered with blood. DELTOID Evening, Sergeant. Evening, all. Dear, dear, this boy does look a mess, doesn't he? Just look at the state of him. FATNECK Love's young nightmare like. INSPECTOR Violence makes violence. He resisted his lawful arrestors. DELTOID Well, it's happened, Alex boy, yes. Just as I thought it would, yes. Dear, dear, dear. Well, this is the end of the line for me... the end of the line, yes. ALEX It wasn't me, brother, sir. Speak up for me, sir, for I'm not so bad. I was led on by the treachery of others, sir. INSPECTOR Sings the roof off lovely, he does that. ALEX And where are my stinking traitorous droogs. Get them before the get away. It was all their idea, brothers. They forced me to do it. I'm innocent. DELTOID You are now a murderer, little Alex. A murderer, yes. ALEX Not true, sir. It was only a slight tolchock. She was breathing, I swear it. DELTOID I've just come back from the hospital. Your victim has died. ALEX You try to frighten me, sir, admit so, sir. This is some new form of torture. Say it, brother, sir. DELTOID It will be your own torture. I hope to God it will torture you to madness. FATNECK If you'd care to give him a bash in the chops, sir. Don't mind us. We'll hold him down. He must be a great disappointment to you, sir. Deltoid spits in Alex's face. HELICOPTER VIEWS OF PRISON ALEX (V.O.) This is the real weepy and like tragic part of the story beginning, O my brothers and only friends. After a trial with judges and a jury, and some very hard words spoken against your friend and humble narrator, he was sentenced to 14 years in Staja No. 84F among smelly perverts and hardened prestoopnicks, the shock sending my dadda beating his bruised and kroovy rookas against unfair Bog in his Heaven, and my mom, boohoohooing in her mother's grief as her only child and son of her bosom, like letting everybody down real horrorshow. INT. PRISON CHECK-IN ROOM ó DAY A bell rings and a Warder goes and unlocks first a wooden door and then a barred door. GUARD Morning. One up from Thames, Mister. WARDER One in from Thames, sir. CHIEF GUARD Right. Open up, Mister. WARDER Yes, sir. He opens door and steps back. Alex and another Warden move to Reception desk. WARDER Good morning, sir. Committal sheet. CHIEF GUARD (who shouts everything) Thank you, Mister. He signs sheet. GUARD Name? ALEX Alexander de Large. CHIEF GUARD You are now in H.M. Prison Parkmoor and from this moment you will address all prison officers as sir! Name? ALEX Alexander de Large, sir. CHIEF GUARD Crime? ALEX Murder, sir. CHIEF GUARD Right. Take the cuffs off him, Mister. The cuffs are removed. CHIEF GUARD You are now 655321 and it is your duty to memorise that number. He hands clipboard back to Warder. CHIEF GUARD Thank you Mister. Well done. WARDER Thank you, chief. CHIEF GUARD Let the officer out. Officer exits. CHIEF GUARD Right. Empty your pockets! Alex moves to desk and leans forward. CHIEF GUARD Are you able to see that white line painted on the floor directly behind you, 655321? ALEX Yes, sir. CHIEF GUARD Then your toes belong on the other side of it!!! ALEX Yes sir. CHIEF GUARD Right carry on. Alex tosses a bar of chocolate on the desk. CHIEF GUARD Pick that up and put it down properly. Alex does so, and continues to empty his pockets. CHIEF GUARD One half bar of chocolate. One bunch of keys on white metal ring. One packet of cigarettes. Two plastic ball pens ó one black, one red. One pocket comb ó black plastic. One address book ó imitation red leather. One ten penny piece. One white metal wristlet watch, "Timawrist" on a white metal expanding bracelet. Anything else in your pockets? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Right. Sign here for your valuable property. Alex signs. CHIEF GUARD The chocolate and cigarettes you brought in ó you lose that as you are now convicted. Now go over to the table and get undressed. Alex walks to table and undresses. Chief Guard moves to table with his clipboard. CHIEF GUARD Now then, were you in Police custody this morning? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One jacket ó blue pinstripe. CHIEF GUARD Prison custody? ALEX Yes, sir On remand, sir. CHECK-IN One neck tie ó blue. CHIEF GUARD Religion? ALEX C of E, sir. CHIEF GUARD Do you mean Church of England? ALEX Yes, sir, Church of England, sir. CHIEF GUARD Brown hair, is it? ALEX Fair hair, sir. CHIEF GUARD Blue eyes? ALEX Blue eyes, yes, sir. CHIEF GUARD Do you wear eye glasses or contact lenses? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One shirt ó blue, collar attached. CHIEF GUARD Have you been receiving medical treatment for any serious illness? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One pair of boots ó black leather, zippered, worn. CHIEF GUARD Have you ever had any mental illness? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Do you wear any false teeth or false limbs? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One pair of trousers ó blue pinstriped. CHIEF GUARD Have you ever had any attacks of fainting or dizziness? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One pair of socks ó black. CHIEF GUARD Are you an Epileptic? ALEX No, sir. CHECK-IN One pair of underpants ó white with blue waistband. CHIEF GUARD Are you now, or ever have been, a homosexual? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Right. The mothballs, Mister. CHECK-IN Mothballs, sir. CHIEF GUARD Now then. Face the wall. Bend over and touch your toes. Chief Guard inspects Alex's anus with a penlight. CHIEF GUARD Mmmmmmm... any venereal disease? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Crabs? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Lice? ALEX No, sir. CHIEF GUARD Through there for a bath. ALEX Yes, sir. INT. PRISON CHAPEL ó DAY Priest in pulpit big rough state-proper type. Convict audience. Alex sits apart tending an overhead projector. PRIEST I ask you friends. What's it going to be then? Is it going to be in and out of institutions like this? Or more in then out for most of you? Or are you going to attend the divine word and realise the punishment that awaits unrepentant sinners in the next world as well as this. A lot of Idiots you are, selling your birthright for a saucer of cold porridge. The urge to live easy. I ask you friends, is it worth it? When we have undeniable proof ó yes, my friends, incontrovertible evidence that Hell exists. I know, I know, my friends. I have been informed in visions that there is a place darker than any prison, hotter than any human flame of fire, where unrepentant criminals, sinners like yourselves... A convict burps. All laugh. PRIEST Don't you laugh, damn you, don't you laugh. I say like yourselves ó scream in endless and unendurable agony. Their nostrils choked with the smell of filth, their mouths crammed with burning ordure. Their skins rotting and peeling. A fireball spinning in their screaming guts. I know... oh yes, I know. A convict lets rip some lip music ó prrrrrrrp. There is laughter. Chief Guard moves forward ó points. CHIEF GUARD I saw you, 920537. I saw you. CONVICT Up yours, mate. CHIEF GUARD Just you wait, 744678. One on the turnip coming up for you. PRIEST Quiet, my friends. Quiet. Quiet, I say. We will now sing Hymn 258 in the Prisoner's Hymnal. Piano starts up and Alex starts up overhead projector which displays the words of the hymn. CHIEF GUARD Show a little reverence, you bastards. Quiet! Convicts and all start to sing. SINGING I was a wandering sheep. I did not love... CHIEF GUARD Sing up damn you. Louder, sing up. SINGING ... the fold I did not love my shepherd's voice. I would not be controlled. CHIEF GUARD Come on, sing up, damn you. SINGING I was a wayward child I did not love my home I did not love my father's voice I loved afar to roam. ALEX (V.O.) It had not been edifying, indeed not, being in this hell hole and human zoo for two years now, being kicked and tolchocked by brutal warders, and meeting leering criminals and perverts ready to dribble all over a lucious young malchick like your story-teller. INT. PRIEST'S LIBRARY ó DAY Alex reading the Bible. ALEX (V.O.) It was my rabbit to help the prison charlie with the Sunday service. He was a bolshy great burly bastard, but he was very fond of myself, me being very young, and also now very interested in the big book. Priest walks by and nods pleasantly. ALEX (V.O.) It had been arranged by the prison charlie, as part of my further education to read him the Bible. I didn't so much like the latter part of the book which is more like all preachy talking, than fighting and the old in-out. I liked the parts where these old yahoodies tolchock each other and then drink their Hebrew vino and, then getting on to the bed with their wives' handmaidens. That kept me going. BIBLE FANTASY ó FIGHTING ó DAY Biblical fighting shot. Alex slashing away. Blood spurting. HANDMAIDEN FANTASY IN TENT ó DAY Alex lying with three semi-nude handmaidens. EXT. BIBLICAL STREET Christ being whipped on by Alex, dressed as a Legionary. ALEX Move on there. Move on. ALEX (V.O.) I read all about the scourging and the crowning with thorns and all that, and I could viddy myself helping in and even taking charge of the tolchocking and the nailing in, being dressed in the height of Roman fashion. BACK TO THE LIBRARY Alex sits with his eyes closed. Priest comes over and squeezes his shoulder. Alex looks up at him and smiles. PRIEST (reading from Alex's Bible) Seek not to be like evil men, neither desire to be with them, because their minds studieth robberies and their lips speak deceits. ALEX If thou lose hope being weary in the days of distress, thy strength shall be diminished. PRIEST Fine, my boy, fine, fine. ALEX Father, I have tried, have I not? PRIEST You have, my son. ALEX I've done my best, have I not? PRIEST Indeed. ALEX And, Father, I've never been guilty of any institutional infractions, have I? PRIEST You certainly have not, 655321. You've been very helpful, and you've shown a genuine desire to reform. ALEX Father ó may I ask you a question in private? PRIEST Certainly, my son, certainly. Is there something troubling you, my son? Don't be shy to speak up. Remember, I know all the urges that can trouble young men deprived of the society of women. ALEX No Father. It's nothing like that, Father. It's about this new thing they're all talking about. About this new treatment that you out of prison in no time at all and makes sure you never get back in again. PRIEST Where did you hear about this? Whose been talking about these things? ALEX These things get around, Father. Two Warders talk as it might be, and somebody can't help overhearing what they say. Then somebody picks up a scrap of newspaper in the workshops and the newspaper tells all about it. How about putting me in for this new treatment, Father? PRIEST I take it you are referring to the Ludovico Technique? ALEX I don't know what it's called, Father, all I know is that it gets you out quickly and makes sure that you never get in again. PRIEST That's not proven, 655321. In fact, it is only in the experimental stage at this moment. ALEX But it is being used, isn't it, Father? PRIEST It has not been used yet in this prison. The Governor has grave doubts about it and I have heard that there are very serious dangers involved. ALEX I don't care about the danger, Father. I just want to be good. I want for the rest of my life to be one act of goodness. PRIEST The question is weather or not this technique really makes a man good. Goodness comes from within. Goodness is chosen. When a man cannot chose, he ceases to be a man. ALEX I don't understand about the whys and wherefores, Father. I only know I want to be good. PRIEST Be patient, my son, and put your trust in the Lord. ALEX Instruct thy son and he shall refresh thee and shall give delight to thy soul. PRIEST Amen. They cross themselves. EXT. PRISON YARD ó DAY Prisoners walking in circles. INT. PRISON CORRIDOR Guards stand either side of cell doors. Chief Guard with Governor, Minister and entourage. CHIEF GUARD Mister. GUARD All present and correct, sir. CHIEF GUARD Right. All present and correct, sir. GOVERNOR Very good, Chief. They inspect cells. CHIEF GUARD Leave to carry on, sir, please? GOVERNOR Carry on, Chief. CHIEF GUARD Sir. EXT. PRISON YARD Chief Guard comes out of door. CHIEF GUARD Right, pay attention. I want you in two lines. Up against that wall facing this way. Go on move! Hurry up about it and stop talking. The men line up. Chief Guard moves back to door and comes to attention. CHIEF GUARD Ready for inspection, sir. He stands back and salutes as Governor, Minister and entourage enter and walk along line of men. MINISTER How many to a cell? GOVERNOR Four in this block, sir. MINISTER Cram criminals together and what do you get ó concentrated criminality... crime in the midst of punishment. GOVERNOR I agree, sir. What we need are larger prisons. More money. MINISTER Not a chance, my dear fellow. The Ggovernment can't be concerned any longer with outmoded penological theories. Soon we may be needing all of out prison space for political offenders. Common criminals like these are best dealt with on a purely curative basis. Kill the criminal reflex that's all. Full implementation in a year's time. Punishment means nothing to them, you can see that... they enjoy their so-called punishment. Alex seizes his chance as they pass by. ALEX You're absolutely right, sir. CHIEF GUARD Shut your bleedin' hole!!! MINISTER Who said that? ALEX I did, sir. MINISTER What crime did you commit. ALEX The accidental killing of a person, sir. CHIEF GUARD He brutally murdered a woman, sir, in furtherence of theft. 14 years... sir! MINISTER Excellent. He's enterprising, aggressive, outgoing. Young. Bold. Viscous. He'll do. GOVERNOR Well, fine... we could still look at C-Block. MINISTER No, no, no. That's enough. He's perfect. I want his records sent to me. This vicious young hoodlum will be transformed out of all recognition. ALEX Thank you very much for this chance, sir. MINISTER Let's hope you make the most of it, my boy. GOVERNOR Shall we go to my office? MINISTER Thank you. INT. GOVERNOR'S OFFICE ó DAY Governor seated at his desk. There is a knock on the door. GOVERNOR Come in. Door opens. Chief Guard enters with Alex. CHIEF GUARD Sir, 655321, sir. GOVERNOR Very good, Chief. Chief Guard turns to Alex. CHIEF GUARD Forward to the white line, toes behind it. Full name and number to the Governor. Chief Guard closes door. ALEX Alexander de Large, sir. 655321, sir. The Governor takes off his glasses. GOVERNOR I don't suppose you know who that was this morning, do you? That was no less a personage than the Minister of the Interior and what they call a very new broom. Well, these new ridiculous ideas have come at last, and orders are orders, though I may say to you in confidence that I do not approve. An eye for an eye, I say, if someone hits you, you hit back, do you not? Why then should not the State very severely hit by you brutal offenders not hit back also? But the new view is to say no. The new view is that we turn the bad into good. All of which seems to be grossly unjust. Hmmmmmm. ALEX Sir... CHIEF GUARD Shut your filthy hole, you scum!!! GOVERNOR You are to be reformed. Tomorrow you go to this man, Brodsky. You will be leaving here. You will be transferred to the Ludovico Medical Facility. It is believed that you will be able to leave State custody in a little over a fortnight. I suppose that prospect pleases you? CHIEF GUARD Answer when the Governor asks you a question you filthy young swine! ALEX Oh yes, sir. Thank you very much, sir. I've done my best here I really have, sir. I'm very grateful to all concerned. GOVERNOR Sign this ó where it's marked. Alex turns the paper to read it. CHIEF GUARD Don't read it ó sign it! GOVERNOR It says that you are willing to have the residue of your sentence commuted to the Ludovico treatment. Alex signs. Governor gathers up papers. Alex dots the last "i" and smiles. INT. LUDOVICO CENTRE RECEPTION DESK ó DAY ALEX (V.O.) The next morning I was taken to the Ludovico Medical Facility, outside the town centre, and I felt a malenky bit sad having to say goodbye to the old Staja, as you always will when you leave a place you've like gotten used to. Chief Guard briskly leads the way for Alex and escort. They move into reception hall where the Doctor stands. CHIEF GUARD (shouting like an RSM) Right. Halt the prisoner. Good morning, sir, I'm Chief Officer Barnes. I've got 655321 on a transfer from Parkmoor to the Ludovico Centre, sir! DOCTOR Good morning, we've been expecting you. I'm Dr. Alcott. Chief Guard checks the name from his clipboard. CHIEF GUARD Yes, Dr. Alcott. Are you prepared to accept the prisoner, sir? DOCTOR Yes, of course. CHIEF GUARD Well, I wonder if you'd mind signing these transfer documents, sir. Doctor signs. CHIEF GUARD Thank you, sir. There, sir... there, and there, sir... and there. Thank you, sir. Prison escort move forward. Halt. Excuse me, sir. Is that the officer that is to take charge of the prisoner, sir? Doctor nods. Officer steps forward. CHIEF GUARD If I might offer a word of advice, Doc. You'll have to watch this one. A right brutal bastard he has been, and will be again. In spite all his sucking up to the prison Chaplain and reading the Bible. DOCTOR Oh, I think we can manage things. Charlie, will you show the young man to his room now. CHARLIE Right, sir. Come this way, please. Alex exits with Officer. INT. ALEX'S ROOM ó LUDOVICO CENTRE ó DAY Alex finishing breakfast tray in bed. Room bright and cheery. Dr. Branom, a tall woman in her fifties, enters with nurse carrying a sterile tray. DR. BRANOM (very briskly) Good morning, Alex, my name is Dr. Branom. I'm Doctor Brodsky's assistant. ALEX Good Morning, Missus. Lovely day, isn't it? DR. BRANOM Indeed it is. May I take this She removes his tray. DR. BRANOM How're you feeling this morning? ALEX Fine... fine. DR. BRANOM Good. In a few minutes, you'll meeting Dr. Brodsky and we'll begin your treatment. You're a very lucky boy to have been chosen. ALEX I realise all that, Missus, and I'm very grateful to all concerned. DR. BRANOM We're going to friends now, sir. ALEX I hope so, Missus. She inserts a needle into the medicine vial. ALEX (CONT'D) What's the hypo for then? Going to send me to sleep? DR. BRANOM Oh no, nothing of the sort. ALEX Vitamins will it be then? DR. BRANOM Something like that. You are a little undernourished, so after each meal were going to give you a shot. Roll over on your right side please, loosen your pyjama pants and pull them half-way down. He does, somewhat reluctantly. She gives him a shot in the bum. ALEX What exactly is the treatment here going to be then? DR. BRANOM It's quite simple really. Were just going to show you some films. ALEX You mean like going to the pictures? DR. BRANOM Something like that. ALEX Well, that's good. I like to viddy the old films now and again. INT. AUDIO VISUAL LUDOVICO CENTRE ó DAY Auditorium setting. Alex is bound in a examination chair in front of a large video screen. A white-coated Technician is strapping Alex's head to a medical device. He then carefully attaches the eyelid locking to Alex's eyes. ALEX (V.O.) And viddy films I would. Where I was taken to, brothers, was like no cine I'd been in before. I was bound up in a straight-jacket and my gulliver was strapped to a headrest with like wires running away from it. Then they clamped like lidlocks on my eyes so I could not shut them no matter how hard I tried. It seemed a bit crazy to me, but I let them get on with what they wanted to get on with. If I was to be a free young malchick in a fortnight's time, I would put up with much in the meantime, my brothers. At the back of the auditorium are ten or fifteen solemn medical Professionals in white coats watching the proceedings and occasionally taking notes. A film begins showing on the screen. The Technician drops eyedrops into Alex's eyes. VIOLENCE FILM Man being beaten by four toughs wearing white. Punches, kicks, grunts, blood. ALEX (V.O.) So far the first film was a very good professional piece of cine, looked like it was done in Hollywood. Screams, moans, kicks, punches. ALEX (V.O.) The sounds were real horroshow. You could slooshy the screams and moans very realistic and you could even get the heavy breathing and panting of the tolchocking malchicks at the same time. And then, what do you know, soon our dear old friend, the red, red vino on tap. The same in all places like it's put out by the same big firm, began to flow. It was beautiful. It's funny how the colours of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on a screen. More kicks, punches, groans, thumps. Girl being beaten, raped by six toughs. Screams, music, laughing, grunts, heavy breathing. ALEX (V.O.) Now all the time I was watching this, I was beginning to get very aware of like not feeling all that well, but I tried to forget this, concentrating on the next film, which jumped right away on a young devotchka, who was being given the old in-out, in-out, first by one malchick, then another, then another. This seemed real, very real, though if you thought about it properly you couldn't imagine lewdies actually agreeing to having all this done to them in a film, and if these films were made by the good, or the State, you couldn't imagine them being allowed to take these films, without like interfering with what was going on. Girl being raped. ALEX (V.O.) When it came to the sixth or seventh malchick, leering and smecking and then going into it, I began to feel really sick. But I could not shut my glazzies and even if I tried to move my glazballs about I still not get out of the line of fire of this picture. Alex squirming and retching. Dr. Brodsky clears his throat and quietly addresses his colleagues seated in the back of the room. DR. BRODSKY Very soon now the drug will cause the subject to experience a death-like paralysis together with deep feelings of terror and helplessness. One of our earlier test subjects described it as being like death, a sense of stifling and drowning, and it is during this period we have found the subject will make his most rewarding associations between his catastrophic experience and environment and the violence he sees. Alex retching violently and struggling against his strait jacket. ALEX Let me be sick... I want to get up. Get me something to be sick in... Stop the film... Please stop it... I can't stand it any more. Stop it please... please. INT. ALEX'S ROOM ó LUDOVICO ó DAY DR. BRANOM Well, that was a very promising start. By my calculations, you should be starting to feel alright again. Yes? Dr. Brodsky's pleased with you. Now tomorrow there'll be two sessions, of course, morning and afternoon. ALEX You mean, I have to viddy two sessions in one day? DR. BRANOM I imagine you'll be feeling a little bit limp by the end of the day. But we have to be hard on you. You have to be cured. ALEX But it was horrible. DR. BRANOM Well, of course, it was horrible. Violence is a very horrible thing. That's what you're learning now. Your body is learning it. ALEX I just don't understand about feeling sick the way I did. I never used to feel sick before. I used to feel like the very opposite. I mean, doing it or watching it, I used to feel real horrorshow. I just don't understand why, how or what. DR. BRANOM You felt ill this afternoon because you're getting better. You see, when we're healthy we respond to the presence of the hateful with fear and nausea. You're becoming healthy that's all. By this time tomorrow you'll be healthier still. INT. AUDIO VISUAL LUDOVICO CENTRE ó DAY Alex retching and screaming ó restrained again by a straight-jacket. ALEX (V.O.) It was the next day, brothers, and I had truly done my best, morning and afternoon, to play it their way and sit like a horrorshow co-operative malchick in the chair of torture, while they flashed nasty bits of ultra-violence on the screen.; though not on the soundtrack, my brothers. The only sound being music. Then I noticed in all my pain and sickness what music it was that like cracked and boomed. It was Ludwig van ó 9th symphony, 4th movement. ALEX Stop it... stop it, please!!! I beg of you!!! It's a sin!!! It's a sin!!! It's a sin, please!!! Brodsky leans forward and turns down the sound. DR. BRODSKY What's all this about sin? ALEX That!... Using Ludwig van like that! He did no harm to anyone. Beethoven just wrote music. DR. BRANOM Are you referring to the background score? ALEX Yes!!! DR. BRANOM You've heard Beethoven before? ALEX Yes!!! DR. BRODSKY You're keen on music? ALEX Yes!!! DR. BRANOM (quietly) What do you think about that, Dr. Brodsky? DR. BRODSKY (softly) It can't be helped. Here's your punishment element perhaps. The Governor ought to be pleased... I'm sorry, Alex, this is for your own good, you'll have to bear with us for a while. ALEX You needn't take it any further, sir. You've proved to me that all this ultra-violence and killing is wrong and terribly wrong. I've learned my lesson, sir. I see now what I've never seen before I'm cured, praise Bog! DR. BRODSKY You're not cured yet, my boy. DR. BRODSKY You must take your chance boy. The choice has been all yours. ALEX But, Sir... Missus... I see that it's wrong! It's wrong because it's like against like society. It's wrong because everybody has the right to live and be happy without being tolchocked and knifed. DR. BRODSKY No, no, boy. You really must leave it to us, but be cheerful about it. In less than a fortnight now, you'll be a free man. INT. AUDITORIUM ó DAY VIP audience including Minister, Junior Minister, Prison Governor, Priest, Dr. Branom, Dr. Brodsky. Dressed in street clothes Alex enters led by a white-coated Technician. He is led onto stage and left standing there, blinking into lights. The Minister rises and walks to the front of the auditorium. MINISTER Ladies and Gentlemen, at this point, we introduce the subject himself. He is, as you will perceive, fit and well nourished. He comes straight from as night's sleep and a good breakfast, undrugged, unhypnotized. Tomorrow, we send him with confidence out into the world again, as decent a lad as you would meet on a May morning. What a change is here, Ladies and Gentlemen, from the wretched hoodlum the state committed to unprofitable punishment some two years ago, unchanged after two years. Unchanged, do I say - not quite. Prison taught him a false smile, the rubbed hands of hypocrisy, the fawning, greased, obsequious leer. Other vices prison taught him as well as confirming him in those he had long practised before. Our party promised to restore law and order and to make the streets safe for the ordinary peace loving citizen. This pledge is now about to become a reality. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is an historic moment. The problem of criminal violence is soon to be a thing of the past. But enough of words ó actions speak louder than. Action now. Observe all. He returns to his seat and leans close to his Junior Minister. JUNIOR MINISTER Our necks are out a long way on this, Minister. MINISTER I have complete faith in Brodsky. If the polls are right, we have nothing to lose. Lights are dimmed. Enter Lardface, an elegantly dressed fag. LARDFACE Hello, heap of dirt. Pooh, you don't wash much do you, judging by the horrible smell. ALEX Why do you say that, brother? I had a shower this morning. LARDFACE Oh, he had a shower this morning. You trying to call me a liar? ALEX No, brother. What d'you want? LARDFACE What do I want? ALEX Sorry, brother. I didn't mean any offence. LARDFACE Oh. Oh, you're sorry are you, well you must think I'm awfully stupid. He slaps Alex in the face. ALEX Why did you do that, brother? I've never done wrong to you. LARDFACE You want to know why I did that, well you see ó I do that... He stamps on Alex's foot. LARDFACE ... and this... He pulls Alex's nose. LARDFACE ... and that... He pulls Alex's ear, pushes him off balance and plants his foot on his chest. LARDFACE ... because I don't like you horrible type, do I, and if you want to start something... if you want to start... go on... well, you just start. Please do. Alex retching. ALEX I'm gonna be sick. LARDFACE You're gonna be sick are you? ALEX I wanna be sick. LARDFACE You wanna be sick? ALEX Let me get up. LARDFACE You wanna get up? Well, you've gotta you see... well I want you to lick it. Go on... Lick it. Alex, gagging and coughing, licks the sole of his shoe. LARDFACE ... And again... Go on!!! Again! There's a good boy. ALEX (V.O.) And, O my brothers, would you believe your faithful friend and long suffering narrator pushed out his red yahzik a mile and a half to lick the grahzny, vonny boots. The horrible killing sickness had wooshed up and turned the like joy of battle into a feeling I was going to snuff it. Minister rises. MINISTER Enough! That will do very well. Thank you. Lardface does leading-man-bows. A smattering of applause. LARDFACE Thank you very much, Ladies and Gentlemen... Thank you. Alex on floor ó still retching. A beautiful nude Girl enters. Alex looks up slowly. ALEX (V.O.) She came towards me with the light like it was the like light of heavenly grace, and the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I would like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage. But quick as a shot came the sickness, like a detective that had been watching around the corner and now followed to make his arrest. Alex retching. Minister rises. MINISTER Thank you very much. Thank you my dear. Girl bows and exits to loud applause. MINISTER Not feeling too bad now are you? ALEX (pulling himself together) No, sir, I feel really great. MINISTER Good. ALEX Was I alright, sir? Did I do well, sir? MINISTER Fine. Absolutely fine. You see, Ladies and Gentlemen our subject is, you see, impelled towards good by paradoxically being impelled toward evil. The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress. To counter these, the subject has to switch to a diametrically opposed attitude. Any questions? Priest rises and moves to Alex. PRIEST Choice! The boy has no real choice, has he? Self interest, fear of physical pain drove him to that grotesque act of self abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice. MINISTER Padre, these are subtleties. We are not concerned with motive, with the higher ethics; we are concerned only with cutting down crime. And with relieving the ghastly congestion in our prisons... He will be your true Christian, ready to turn the other cheek. Ready to be crucified rather than crucify, sick to the very heart at the thought even of killing a fly. Reclamation, joy before the angels of God. The point is that it works! Applause. EXT. FLATBLOCK Alex walking carrying his prison parcel wrapped in brown paper. INT. ALEX'S FLAT Ma, Pa and Joe the Lodger reading newspapers. Headlines ó all Alex. Alex enters quietly. Loud radio music from sitting room prevents anyone from hearing him. He enters his won room which is the first off the hall. ALEX Hi. Hi. Hi, there my Pee and Em. All three look up startled. EM Alex. ALEX (to his mother) Hullo love, how are you? (kisses her) Nice to see you, Dad. PEE Hullo lad. What a surprise, good to see you. ALEX Keeping fit then? PEE (very ill at ease) Fine, fine. ALEX Well, how are you then? PEE Oh fine, fine. Keeping out of trouble, you know. ALEX Well ó I'm back. PEE (with feigned enthusiasm) Aye. Glad to see you back, lad. EM Why didn't you let us know what was happening, son? ALEX Sorry, Em, I wanted it to be like... a big surprise for you and pee. PEE Well, it's a surprise all right, a bit bewildering too. EM We've only just read about it in the morning papers. PEE Aye. You should have let us know, lad, not that we're not very pleased to see you again. All cured too, eh? ALEX That's right, Dad they did a great job on my gulliver, I'm completely reformed. PEE Aye. ALEX (looks in the kitchen) Well, still the same old place then, eh? PEE Oh, aye, aye. ALEX (fake whisper) Hey, Dad, there's a strange fella sitting on the sofa there munchy-wunching lomticks of toast. PEE Aye, that's Joe. He... ummmm, lives here now. The lodger. That's what he is... he... he rents your room. Alex confronts Joe. ALEX How do you do, Joe? Find the room comfortable, do you? No complaints? JOE I've heard about you. I know what you've done. Breaking the hearts of your poor grieving parents. So you're back? You're back to make a life of misery for your lovely parents, is that it? Well, over my dead corpse you will, because you see, they've let me be more like a son to them than like a lodger. Alex cocks his fist and starts to retch violently, almost at the same moment Joe drops back on the couch next to Em. EM Joe! Joe! Don't fight here boys! Alex burps and retches. JOE Oh, please. Do put your hand over your mouth, it's bloody revolting. Alex violently ill. PEE Well, what's the matter lad, are you feeling alright? EM Dad... It's the treatment. More retching. JOE Well, it's disgusting. It puts you off your food. EM Leave him be, Joe. It's the treatment. PEE D'you think we should do something? EM Would you like me to make you a nice cup of tea, son? ALEX No thanks, Mum. It'll pass in a minute... (after a pause) ... What have you done with all my own personal things? PEE Well. That was all took away, son, by the Police. New regulation about compensation for the victim. ALEX What about Basil? Where's my snake? PEE Oh well, he met with like an accident. He passed away. Alex becomes a bit weepy. ALEX What's gonna happen to me then? I mean that's my room he's in ó there's no denying that. This is my home also. What suggestions have you, my Pee and Em, to make? PEE Well, all this needs thinking about, son. I mean we can't very well just kick Joe out... Not just like that, can we? I mean Joe is here doing a job. A contract it is, two years. Well, we made like an arrangement, didn't we Joe? You see, son, Joe's paid next month's rent already so, well, whatever we do in the future, we cant just say to Joe to get out, now can we? JOE No, there's much more than that, though. I mean I've got you two to think of. I mean you're more like a mother and father to me. Well, it wouldn't be fair now, would it, for me to go off and leave you two to the tender mercies of this young monster who's been like no real son at all. Look, let him go off and find a room somewhere. Let him learn the errors of his way, and that a bad boy like he's been don't deserve such a good mum and dad as he's had. ALEX Alright. I see how things are now. I've suffered and I've suffered, and I've suffered and everybody wants me to go on suffering. JOE You've made others suffer. It's only fair that you should suffer proper. You know I've been told everything you've done, sitting here at night round the family table, pretty shocking it was to listen to. It made me real sick, a lot of it did. Now look what you've gone and done to your mother. Em bursts into tears. ALEX So that's the way it is then, eh? That's the way it is. Right, I'm leaving now, you won't ever viddy me no more. I'll make my own way. Thank you very much. Let it lie heavy on your consciences. Alex exits. PEE (shouting after him) Now don't take it like that son. Em boohoohoos, Joe comforts her. EXT. AMBANKMENT ó DAY Alex walks along the Thames embankment still holding his paper parcel. Tramp enters. The same man beaten by Alex and his gang earlier in the film. TRAMP Can you spare me some cutter, me brother? Can you spare some cutter, me brother? Alex, without looking at him, reaches in his pocket and gives him some money. TRAMP Oh, thankyou, your honour. The Tramp takes a second look at Alex. TRAMP Jamey Mack! Be the hokey fly! Holy Mother of God! All the Holy Angels and blessed saints in Heaven preserve us. Alex breaks away but the Tramp toddles alongside him. TRAMP I never forget a face! I never forget any face, be God! ALEX Leave me alone, brother. I've never seen you before. Tramp shouts to other Meths drinkers and Tramps. TRAMP This is the poisonous young swine that near done me in. Him and his friends beat me and kicked me and thumped me. Alex breaks away again. TRAMP Stop him! Stop him! A leg is stuck out and Alex goes down. The tramp swarm all over him. TRAMP They laughed at me blood and me moans. This murderous young pig is a prize specimen of the cowardly brutal young. He is in our midst and at our mercy. Give it to him. That's it. Old Tramps begin to beat at Alex. ALEX (V.O.) Then there was like a sea of dirty, smelly old men trying to get at your humble Narrator, with their feeble rookers and horny old claws. It was Old Age having a go at Youth and I daren't do a single solitary thing, O my brothers, it being better to be hit at like that, than want to be sick and feel that horrible pain. The Tramp crowd round Alex, shouting. TRAMPS Young hooligan... Vagabound... Kill him... Villain... Toad... Bastard... Kick his teeth in... Near killed poor old Jack, he did. Police move in and push off crowd. FIRST POLICEMAN Alright, stop it now. SECOND POLICEMAN Alright, stop it now. Alright! Come on. Stop breaking the State peace. You naughty boys. Alright, that's enough. Alex looks up. ALEX Oh, no. DIM Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, if it isn't little Alex. Long time no viddy, droog. How goes? Surprised are you? ALEX Impossible... I don't believe it. GEORGIE Evidence of the old glazzies. Nothing up our sleeves. No magic, little Alex? A job for two, who are now of job age. The police. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD ó DAY Police Landrover drives up. Alex is pulled out by Georgie and Dim and hustled up a deserted lane. DIM Come on, Alex. Come for walkies. Hahahahaha. ALEX Come, come, my little droogies. I just don't get this at all. The old days are dead and gone. For what I did in the past I've been punished. DIM Been punished, yeah? ALEX I've been cured. DIM Been cured, yeah, that was read out to us. The Inspector read all that out to us. He said it was a very good way. ALEX I just don't get this all. It was them that went for me, brothers. You're not on their side and can't be. You can't be Dim. It was someone we fillied with back in the old days... Trying to get his own malenky bit of revenge after all this time. You remember, Dim? DIM Long time, is right. I don't remember them days too horrorshow. Don't call me Dim no more, either. Officer, call me. GEORGIE Enough is remembered though, little Alex. Dim and Georgie laugh. They drag Alex to a low water through. DIM This is to make sure you stay cured. Georgie hits Alex in the stomach with his blackjack. Then, they push his head under the water and methodically start to beat him with their blackjacks. After a full minute of this, they drag him out, halt-drowned, DIM (laughing) Be viddying you some more, some time Alex. EXT. "HOME" ó NIGHT ó HEAVY RAIN Alex stumbles up the road to the entrance gate. ALEX (V.O.) Where was I to go, who had no home and no money. I cried for meself, Home, Home, Home. It was Home I was wanting and it was Home I came to, brothers, not realising in the state I was in, where I was and had been before. Alex stumbles and crawls to the door. INT. "HOME" ó NIGHT Mr. Alexander at his typewriter. Julian a 6'4" ó heavyweight weight-lifter lies across an exercise bench working with bar-bells. The door bell rings. MR. ALEXANDER Who on earth could that be? JULIAN I'll see who it is. He goes to the door. JULIAN Yes, what is it? No reply. He opens the door. Alex falls into the hall. ALEX (barely audible) Help. Help me... Help me... Police. Julian picks him up like a child and carries him into the living room. INT. "HOME" ó LIVING ROOM ó NIGHT ALEX (V.O.) And would you believe it, O my brothers and only friends, there was your faithful Narrator being held helpless, like a babe in arms, and suddenly realising where I was and why HOME on the gate had looked so familiar. But I knew I was safe. I knew he would not remember me for, in those carefree days, I and my so-called droogs wore our maskies which were like real horrorshow disguises. JULIAN Frank, I think this young man needs help. MR. ALEXANDER Dear, dear, dear. Whatever happened to you, my boy? Mr. Alexander, now confined to a wheelchair, pushes himself away from his desk, and rolls up to Julian. The water drips off Alex's clothes. They look at each other. ALEX The police... The horrible ghastly Police. They beat me up, sir. The Police beat me up, sir. Mr. Alexander stares at him. It becomes apparent he is insane. MR. ALEXANDER I know who you are! Isn't it your picture in the newspapers? Didn't I see you this morning on the video? Are you not the poor victim of this horrible new technique? ALEX Yes, sir, that's exactly who I am, sir... and what I am... a victim, sir. Mr. Alexander becomes frenzied as the speech progresses. MR. ALEXANDER Then, by God, you have been sent here by providence. Tortured in prison, then thrown out to be tortured by the Police. My heart goes out to you, poor, poor boy. Oh, you are not the first to come here in distress. The Police are fond of bringing their victims to the outskirts of this village. But it is providential that you, who are also another kind of victim, should come here. But you're cold and shivering. Julian, draw a bath for this young man. JULIAN Certainly, Frank. He carries Alex off. ALEX Thank you very much, sir. God bless you, sir. Alexander bites his hand. INT. "HOME" ó BATHROOM Alex soaks, eyes closed, in a hot tub. After a while he begins softly singing to himself: "Singin' in the Rain". INT. "HOME" ó LIVING ROOM ó DAY Mr. Alexander is hunched over the phone, talking in hoarse whipsers. The door to the bathroom is right behind him. While he speaks Mr. Alexander throws nervous glances over his shoulder. MR. ALEXANDER I tell you, sir, they have turned this young man into something other than a human being. He has no power of choice any more. He's committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good... He can be the most potent weapon imaginable to ensure that the Government is not returned at the next election. The Government's great boast, as you know sir, is the way they have dealt with crime in the last few months. Recruiting brutal young roughs into the police, proposing debilitation and will-sapping techniques of conditioning. Oh, we've seen it all before in other countries The thin end of the wedge. Before we know where we are we shall have the full apparatus of totalitarianism. This young boy is a living witness to these diabolical proposals. The people ó the common people ó must know... must see! There are rare traditions of liberty to defend. The tradition of liberty means all. The common people will let it go! Oh, yes ó they will sell liberty for a quieter life. That is why they must be led, sir, driven... pushed!!! Thank you very much, sir. He'll be here. Trembling with excitement and madness, Mr. Alexander hangs up the phone. His eyes, shiny with anticipation. Then, suddenly, he becomes aware of Alex's voice coming from the other side of the door. INT. "HOME" ó BATHROOM Alex in bath, singing. ALEX I'm singing in the rain, Just singing in the rain... MR. ALEXANDER His face horribly distorted in a Homeric rage. INT. "HOME" ó NIGHT Alex, alone, in complete silence. Eating a large plate of spaghetti. The giant, Julian, appears, carrying Mr. Alexander in his wheelchair. He deposits him at the table. ALEX Good evening, sir. MR. ALEXANDER (very weird) Good evening. ALEX It was very kind of you to leave this out for me, sir. There was no-one around when I finished my bath, so I started. I hope that's alright, sir. MR. ALEXANDER (too loud ó voice out of control) Of course. Food alright? ALEX Great, sir. Great. MR. ALEXANDER Try the wine! ALEX Thank you very much, sir. Cheers Suddenly the thought occurs to Alex that the wine may be drugged or poisoned. ALEX Won't you join me, sir? MR. ALEXANDER No, my health doesn't allow it. ALEX (to Julian) And you, sir? JULIAN No thank you. Alex, stalling for time, reaches for bottle and reads the label. ALEX 1960, Chateau, Saint Estephe, Medoc, very good brand, sir. He doesn't get a penny's change for his remarks from Alexander and Julian. He holds the glass up to the light. ALEX Very good colour, sir. Smells mice, too.Very good number, sir. Very good. Here's to it. He downs the glass. ALEX Very refreshing, sir, very refreshing. MR. ALEXANDER (very arch) I'm so pleased you appreciate good wine. Have another glass! ALEX Thank you, sir. MR. ALEXANDER My wife... Alex freezes. MR. ALEXANDER ... used to do everything for me and leave me to my writing. ALEX Your wife, sir? Has she gone away? MR. ALEXANDER No. She's dead! ALEX I'm sorry to hear about that, sir. His face contorted in rage. MR. ALEXANDER She was very badly raped, you see. We were assaulted by a gang of vicious young hooligans in this house, in this very room you're sitting in now. I was left a helpless cripple. The doctors said it was Pneumonia, because it happened some months later during the 'flu epidemic. The doctors told me it was Pneumonia, but I knew what it was. A victim of the modern age, poor, poor girl. Suddenly his mood changes. He wheels right up to Alex. MR. ALEXANDER And now you, another victim of the modern age. But you can be helped. I phoned some friends while you were having a bath. ALEX Phoned some friends, sir? MR. ALEXANDER Yes. They want to help. ALEX Help me, sir? MR. ALEXANDER Help you. ALEX Who are they, sir? MR. ALEXANDER They're very, very important people and they're interested in you. Bell rings. Julian rises, MR. ALEXANDER Julian. This will be these people now. Alex gets up. ALEX Look, sir. I'm sorry to have troubled you. I think I ought to be going, sir. Julian bars the way. MR. ALEXANDER No, no my boy. No trouble at all. Alex slowly sits. MR. ALEXANDER Have another glass of wine. He pours. Alex picks up glass and takes a drink. INT. "HOME" ó NIGHT Dolin and Rubinstein enter with Julian. DOLIN (genial) Hullo, Frank. MR. ALEXANDER Good evening, sir. RUBINSTEIN Frank. DOLIN So this is the young man? ALEX How do you do, sir? DOLIN Hullo. ALEX Missus. Very pleased to meet you. RUBINSTEIN Hullo. DOLIN I hope you forgive us for coming over at this ungodly hour, but we heard from Frank that you were in some trouble so we came over to see if we could be of any help. ALEX Very kind of you, sir. Thank you very much. DOLIN I understand that you had a rather unfortunate encounter with the Police tonight. ALEX Yes, sir. I suppose you might call it that, sir. DOLIN Hahaha, and how are you feeling now? ALEX Much better, thank you, sir. DOLIN Feel like talking to us. Answering a few questions? ALEX Fine, sir, fine. DOLIN Well, as I've said, we've heard about you. We are interested in your case. We want to help you. ALEX Thank you very much, sir. DOLIN But first we'd like to find out a few things about you. ALEX What would you like to know, sir? DOLIN Well, shall we get down to it? ALEX Yes, sir. Rubinstein takes out a notebook. RUBINSTEIN The newspapers mentioned that in addition to your being conditioned against acts of sex and violence, you've inadvertently been conditioned against music. ALEX Well, er, I think that was something that they hadn't planned for, you see, Missus, I'm very fond of music and always have been, especially Beethoven, Ludwig van... Beethoven. B... E... E... He leans over and looks at her writing in notebook. RUBINSTEIN It's alright, thank you. ALEX And it just so happened that while they were showing me a particularly bad film, of like a concentration camp, the background music was playing Beethoven. RUBINSTEIN So now you have the same reaction to music as you do to sex and violence? ALEX Oh well, it's... it's not all music you see, Missus. It's just the 9th. RUBINSTEIN You mean Beethoven's 9th Symphony? ALEX That's right. Er... I can't listen to the 9th any more at all. When I hear the 9th, I get like this funny feeling. RUBINSTEIN When you say this funny feeling, you mean the state of mind brought on by the treatment they gave you? ALEX That is correct, sir. And then all I can think about is like trying to snuff it. RUBINSTEIN I beg your pardon? ALEX Snuff it, sir... um... death, I mean, missus... Er... I just want to die peacefully like with no... pain. RUBINSTEIN Do you feel that way now? ALEX Um... oh no, sir, not exactly, I still feel very miserable, very much down in spirits. RUBINSTEIN Do you still feel suicidal? ALEX Um... well, put it this way... I feel very low in myself. I can't see much in the future, and I feel that any second something terrible is going to happen to me. He pitches forward, face into the plate of spaghetti. RUBINSTEIN Well done, Frank. Julian, get the car, will you please? INT. HI-FI ROOM ó DAWN Alexander sits looking up. Rubinstein, Julian and Dolin also listening to Beethoven played loudly on tape recorder. INT. DOLIN'S HOUSE ó PRISONER BEDROOM ó DAY The 9th Symphony booming up through the floor. Alex slowly regains consciousness. ALEX (V.O.) I woke up. The pain and sickness all over me like an animal. Then I realised what it was. The music coming up from the floor was our old friend, Ludwig van and the dreaded 9th Symphony. He staggers to the door. It is locked. He kicks and tugs the door. ALEX Open the door... turn it off... turn it off. CUT TO: THE BILLIARD ROOM BELOW Hi-Fi gear laid out on the table. Large speakers facing upwards. Mr. Alexander trembles and twitches. He is now completely mad. The others merely wait, coolly. INT. DOLIN'S HOUSE ó PRISONER BEDROOM ó DAY Alex on his knees. His hands cupped over his ears, banging his head on the floor. Then he stops and slowly straightens up, staring at the window. ALEX (V.O.) Suddenly I viddied what I had to do, and what I had wanted to do ó and that was to do myself in, to snuff it, to blast off forever out of this wicked cruel world. One moment of pain perhaps and then sleep ó forever and ever and ever. EXT. WINDOW ó DAWC Alex leaps out of the window. INT. HOSPITAL WARD Alex in bed. Camera slowly tracks along length of his body. Everything is bandages and plaster splints, wire cages, blood drips. ALEX (V.O.) I jumped, O my brothers, and I fell hard but I did not snuff it, oh no. if I had snuffed it, I would not be here to tell what I have told. I came back to life, after a long, black, black gap of what might have been a million years. We hear Alex moan, and then another moan. Alex and the other ó a few times. Suddenly, some curtains which have been drawn around another bed in the ward are parted, and a nurse hurries to Alex, hastily buttoning up her uniform. She is trailed by a young Intern fumbling with his trousers. NURSE Oh, he's recovered conscienceness, Doctor. INT. HOSPITAL ó DAY Em and Pee sitting around the bed. PEE Hullo, lad. EM Hullo, son, how are you? PEE Are you feeling better? ALEX What gives, O my Pee and Em, what makes you think you are welcome? Em sobs. Pee comforts her. PEE There, there mother, it's alright. He doesn't mean it. You were in the papers again, son. It said they had done great wrong to you. It said how the Government drove you to try and do yourself in... and when you think about it, son... maybe it was our fault too in a way... your home's your home when it's all said and done, son. Em sobs. INT. HOSPITAL Psychiatrist wheels trolley to Alex's bed. He is sitting up. ALEX Good morning, Missus. DR. TAYLOR How are you feeling today? ALEX Fine. Fine. DR. TAYLOR Good. I'm doctor Taylor. ALEX I haven't seen you before. DR. TAYLOR I'm your Psychiatrist. ALEX Psychiatrist? Huh, do I need one? DR. TAYLOR Just part of hospital routine. ALEX What are we going to do? Talk about me sex life? DR. TAYLOR No... I'm going to show you some slides and you are going to tell me what you think about them Alright? ALEX Ohhh... jolly good. Perhaps you can explain me something to me first. DR. TAYLOR Yes? ALEX Well, when I was all like ashamed up and half awake and unconscious like, I kept having this dream like all these doctors were playing around with me gulliver. You know... like the inside of me brain. I seemed to have this dream over and over again. D'you think it means anything? DR. TAYLOR Patients who've sustained the kind of injuries you have often have dreams of this sort. It's all part of the recovery process. ALEX Oh. DR. TAYLOR Now then, each of these slides needs a reply from one of the people in the picture. You'll tell me what you think the person would say. Alright? ALEX Righty, right. The doctor reads aloud the dialogue printed in the cartoon balloon ó a peacock. DR. TAYLOR Isn't the plumage beautiful? ALEX I just say what the other person would say? DR. TAYLOR Yes. Yes, well don't think about it too long, just say the first thing that pops into your mind. ALEX Right... Knickers... Cabbages... It doesn't have a beak. Alex laughs. Slide of woman speaking to boy. DR. TAYLOR Good. The boy you always quarrelled with is seriously ill. ALEX That's right and I'll smash your face for you, yarblockos. Slide of watch shop. DR. TAYLOR Good. It wa your fault... you sold me a crummy watch. I want my money back. ALEX Bollocks. You know what you can do with that watch? You can stick it up your arse. Slide of nude woman in bed, a man at the window. DR. TAYLOR Good. What do you want? ALEX Excuse me, missus. No time for the old in-out, I've just come to read the meter. Slide of bird's nest with eggs. DR. TAYLOR Good. You can do whatever you like with these. ALEX Eggiwegs. I would like to smash 'em. Pick up th elot and f... owww... He slams his hand down and cries out with pain. ALEX Fucking hell... DR. TAYLOR Fine. Well, that's all there is to it. Are you alright? ALEX I hope so. Is that the end then? DR. TAYLOR Yes. ALEX I was quite enjoying that. DR. TAYLOR Good. I'm glad ALEX How many did I get right? DR. TAYLOR It's not that kind of a test. But you seem well on the way to a complete recovery. ALEX And when do I get out of here then? DR. TAYLOR I'm sure it won't be long now. INT. HOSPITAL ó DAY Alex sitting up, being fed by Nurse. ALEX (V.O.) So I waited and, O my brothers, I got a lot better munching away at eggiwegs, and lomticks of toast and lovely steakiweaks and then, one day, they said I was going to have a very special visitor. Doctor enters followed by Minister and Matron. MINISTER Good evening, my boy. ALEX Hi, hi, hi there, my little droogies. DOCTOR Well, how are you getting on today, young man? ALEX Great, sir. Great. DOCTOR Can I do anything more for you , Minister? MINISTER I don't think so, Sir Leslie. Thank you very much. DR. TAYLOR Then I'll leave you to it. Nurse. They exit. Minister moves to Alex. MINISTER You seem to have a whole ward to yourself, my boy. ALEX Yes, sir, and a very lovely place it is too, sir, when I wake up in the middle of the night with my pain. MINISTER Yes... well good to see you on the mend. I've kept in constant touch with the hospital, of course, and now I've come to see you personally to see how you're getting along. ALEX I've suffered the tortures of the damned. The tortures of the damned, sir. MINISTER Yes I can... Oh look, let me do that for you, shall I? ALEX Thank you, sir. MINISTER I can tell you that I... and the Government of which I am a member are deeply sorry about this, my boy. Deeply sorry. We tried to help you. We followed recommendations had been made to us that turned out to be wrong. An enquiry will place the responsibility where it belongs. We want you to regard us as friends. We've put you right, you're getting the best of treatments. We never wished you harm, but there are some that did and do, and I think you know who those are. There are certain people who wanted to use you for political ends. People who would have been glad to have you dead because then they would have been able to blame it all on the Government. I think you know who those are. There is also a certain man ó a writer of subversive literature ó who has been howling for your blood. He's been mad with desire to stick a knife into you, but you're safe from him now, we've put him away. He found out that you had done wrong to him ó at least he believed you had done wrong. He had formed this idea in his head that you had been responsible for the death of someone near and dear to him. We put him away for his own protection... I'm sorry, I thought you were ready. ALEX Where is he now, sir? MINISTER We put him away where he can do you no harm. You see we are looking after your interests. We are interested in you, and when you leave here you will have no further worries. We shall see to everything... a good job on a good salary. ALEX What job and how much? MINISTER You must have an interesting job at a salary which you would regard as adequate. Not only for the job which you are going to do and in compensation for what you believe you have suffered, but also because you are helping us. ALEX Helping you, sir? MINISTER We always help our friends, don't we? (smiles) It is no secret that the Government has lost a lot of popularity because of you, my boy. There are some that think that at the next election we shall be out. The press has chosen to take a very unfavourable view of what we tried to do. ALEX Well, who can blame them, sir? MINISTER Mmmm, possibly. Yes. But public opinion has a way of changing and you, Alex, if I may call you, Alex? ALEX Certainly, sir. What do they call you at home? MINISTER ument Error^^^My name is Frederick. As I was saying, Alex, you can be instrumental in changing the public verdict. Do you understand, Alex? Have I made myself clear? ALEX As an unmuddied lake, Fred. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, Fred. MINISTER Good... good boy. Oh yes, I understand you're fond of music. I have arranged a little surprise for you. ALEX Surprise? MINISTER One I think you will like... as a, how shall I put it, as a symbol of our new understanding. An understanding between two friends. ALEX Thank you, Fred. Thank you. Minister turns and signals. Door opens and a crowd of cameramen and reporters rush in. Aides push two 6-foot loudspeakers and a Hi-Fi on a trolley. ALEX (V.O.) And what do you know, my brothers and only friends, it was the 9th, the glorious 9th of Ludwig van. Oh, it was gorgeosity and yummy yum yum. I was cured. CLOSE SHOT ALEX ALEX (V.O.) As the music came to its climax, I could viddy myself very clear, running and running on like very light and mysterious feet, carving the whole face of the creeching world with my cut throat britva. I was cured all right. THE END

#kurt russell

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