#the whimsy of being committed to the bit even when no one's watching

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

how would the yanderes react when darling asks "would you love me if i was a worm" 😁

Yandere men and their darling asking "would you love me if I was a worm"

By the way, if you don't specify which set of yanderes, i'll do the latest! So, for this, it's set 2!

YAN! DELINQUENT

"A worm? Uh..."

Liam would be flabbergasted.

He would genuinely think about it. He doesn't have pets before. But, you're not a pet. You're his lover, so does that count as beast--

Then he watches your face distort from cheeky to worried, to sad because he's not answering at all.

But please, don't take his silence the wrong way. He's genuinely trying to give a logical answer to your question!

He's thinking of what soil to use, the cage... Wait, does caging you benefit? Or would it be healthier for a worm to be on grass?

His head is going overload trying to think of what to answer that you actually felt bad for it, until he just groans in his palms and say...

"Of course, I will. Worm or not."

YAN! BULLY

"Yeah no."

Straightforward answer, and it just pissed you off that he didn't even think about it.

And oh boy does he like the fact that you're pissed at him for saying that. He'll tease you about it, saying "boohoo, i'll just throw you away and find another person. Because honestly, how can I fuck you when you're a worm?"

Now, that genuinely hurt you, because it implied that he only loves you for your body. And now, you're ignoring him. Sure, you have no other friends to turn to, but what's there to miss from him when he says those stuff.

Uno freezes, because now he sees you're actually hurt. At first, he'll laugh at you for being such a sensitive person, not until you ignoring him became too painful and he had to lower is high ass pride and kneel in front of you, saying that you as a worm wouldn't matter because he still loves you.

YAN! NSFW ASMRTIST

"Is this a request for a new audio?"

Rose was slightly aware of the trend, but he didn't expect you to say it to him. So maybe you were suggesting a new audio plot?

But no, you're actually asking if he would love you if you were a worm.

He chuckles, a bit awkward. He's a bit too old for these trends.

"I don't understand the trend. But um... Yes, I will still love you. I'll take care of you greatly, and make sure you live your best life with me."

YAN! ISEKAI'ED ADVENTURER

"My lady? A worm?"

Aeron stops what he's doing (probably marquessate work) and looks up at you. "Are you going to get cursed or something?"

If he somehow knew the trend beforehand, he'll be surprised that you knew that. Are you also from this world, perhaps?

But then, he'll stop himself and chuckles. "Yes, I will. Also, I know that you will overcome whatever curse will be afflicted on you."

It seems that he misunderstood everything. But you don't mind.

YAN! PLAYER

"Yes. And I'll also be a worm. And we'll have a worm wedding, then a worm family..."

Oh gods, please make him stop.

After you asked that question, he'll giddily answer like he's been thinking about the question a lot. You looked at him funnily as he listed down his wormy fantasy when you both become worms like it's the inevitable. Sometimes, it's scaring you, really.

"--then, i'll bring you the most precious food out there, wait, what kind of worm? Ooh, earthworms? But no..."

Why did you even ask that?

YAN! PARASITE

"Aren't we worms already?"

You shoot Acheron a mean look and he laughs. "I mean, we're technically parasites, hopping from one body to another. So yes, we are worms, and I still and will love you. Yes?"

Well, that's true... But did he really have to be logical? Where's the whimsy and fun?

As you pout there, he chuckles and kisses your forehead.

Well, at least he will love you no matter what.

YAN! EMPEROR

"... No."

You were shocked. Surely, SURELY, the man who committed war crimes just to find you would love you as a worm?

When you asked him why, he would just scoff and say:

"I am a man of high status. I will not be loving a worm."

You frowned, and he could clearly tell that you were about to turn around and walk away when he suddenly pulled you close.

"I will be finding the best wizards and sorcerers out there, even warlocks and witches, just to turn you back to your form."

Okay, maybe Callisto can be sweet too.

YAN! COLLEGE STUDENT

"No questions, yes."

Alpheus gave you a straight answer as he put hot glue on the plank on his hand before gently placing it on the board. "I'll even make you a small house just for you to live on."

He's unbelievably sweet when he said that, like it was the most obvious thing ever. Even when he's making his architectural model, he's still so attentive towards you.

In reality, he doesn't understand this trend at all. Why become a worm in the first place? It's not even logical. But eh. You wanted to ask, so fine.

YAN! DEEP SEA CREATURE

"What is a worm?"

Ah, you forgot that this man is essentially homebound and cannot get out. So, no worms. So you thought of an alternative, a starfish!

He deeply thought of the answer to give you, until... "Hmm, yes, I will. But, that means, I can dissect you into multiples so I can have more of you."

Okay, okay... Jeez.

YAN! HUNTER

"Wait, a worm? Yes, but..."

He's not sure how to say this without saying anything incriminating. "I have to remake the whole pool aquarium into a biodiverse ecosystem!" Well, at least he's still thinking of you.

"NO! WAIT! IF I GIVE YOU THAT BIG OF AN ENCLOSURE, I'LL LOSE YOUR WORM FORM!" You blinked, not expecting such a passionate revelation of an answer. He bit his nail, actually thinking deep. You just rolled your eyes and chuckled.

YAN! KING

"If you become a worm, then I'll be a worm too."

Soma frowns. What kind of question is this?

"I'll make sure that you won't get away from me and crawl back to the Emperor." He seethed, eyes burning with jealousy.

Did you ask that to spite him? Are you going to escape by being a worm? Foolish enough to even say your plan too. He grabs your hand, kissing you roughly.

"I will kill every single worm I see until I reach to you."

YAN! GOD

"Do you wish to be one?"

Liviticus stopped watching the screen and looked to you. He's thinking too deep now. "Are you unhappy in your new form? I can fix that."

But before you could deny, Livticus turned you into a worm, making you shriek in horror as he picked you up. He smiles softly, thinking you like it. "You'll turn back into a human tomorrow, so don't worry."

STILL TOMORROW?

Man... You shouldn't have asked...

YAN! PROSECUTOR

"I will not be able to love you romantically as a worm."

He sadly says as he holds your hand. He seems genuinely distraught of the fact that he can't. You asked him why not. "It's because we are species apart, and it will be unfair to you if I confine you to me always when your place is in the soil, thriving, eating, growing... I simply cannot."

He pecks you on the forehead, gently brushing the back of your hand. "But, I will still long for you, forever."

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

[eemcintyre]

My (possibly controversial bc the "Top Gun" films aren't there) list of favorite TC films and why:

**There will be a wealth of spoilers below, if that’s something you want to avoid**

P.S. I still enjoy the Top Gun films every now and then, but they’re not really my jam as much as a lot of his other films/characters :)

Jerry Maguire

Pros: So funny but also so inspiring and wholesome; his performance is so intense and sweet and entertaining too- my man was robbed in the awards category as ALWAYS >:( I also find this to be his most relatable character, as I too am constantly teetering on the edge of sanity and everyone is mildly concerned, I enjoy talking to little kids, and am also struggling with what to do with my life and petrified of commitment. Everyone’s roles, even the smallest ones like Marcy, Laurel, Ray, and even the divorced women’s support group are crucial to the experience, and Ray in particular is simply the cutest. Additionally, I love “Shelter from the Storm” and Renee Zellweger's delivery and the fact that she is constantly serving fits. A bit of everything for everyone- we have romance, we have comedy, we have drama, we have sports for lord's sake

Cons: ummm… it ends?? Literally nothing?

2. Far and Away

Pros: I ship it so hard; all the good tropes are there, as another Tumblr user pointed out- enemies to lovers, there’s only one bed, class differences, etc. The vintage aesthetic goes hard, the John Williams score goes even harder; all the fight scenes with a sweaty, rosy-cheeked, bloody, shirtless Tom Cruise, and all the humorous moments I love to quote in my equally poor Irish accent: “That’s in about five hours”; “You came back from the dead to tell me that I’m odd?” The only Tom/Nicole collab that I enjoyed, but I enjoyed it so damn much.

Cons: ummm… same goes for this one- it ends? The first time I watched it too, when I thought he was going to die at the end I was unbelievably pissed and drowned in unfathomable sorrow, if that counts?

3. Cocktail

Pros: So many laughs (most intentional, some not lol, we can all be adults and admit it gets mildly ridiculous, but this movie is meant to be enjoyed not overanalyzed), the under-appreciated goddess Elisabeth Shue, Tom’s floofy hair and baby voice, and something for everyone- a bit of romance, comedy, drama, coming-of-age, etc. Little moments like the part where he flips two bottles and sticks his tongue out, the part where he says “the orgasm” and bends to kiss a girl’s hand, oooooohh boy it’s cold shower time. I also never knew bottle flipping could be so sexually charged. Is that a kink?

Cons: Brian is not the brightest a lot of the time and his excuses/rationale for doing things can be very frustrating (we all know what I’m talking about- if sOMEONE DARES YOU YOU’VE GOTTA TAKE A DARE are we TWELVE??); I also find quite a few of the characters irritating- Doug, Kerry, Bonnie, Coral… I know they’re supposed to be, but STILL, a girl can only take so much

4. The Last Samurai

Pros: Tom’s glorious mane and his character being such a sweetheart and redeeming his honor; everyone’s subtle but extremely expressive performances, the gorgeous scenery, the cute lil children. The inspirational quotes about "finding the perfect blossom" and "life in every breath", and the power duo Nathan and Katsumoto; the bros, the buddies, the besties, if you will

Cons: that almost everyone frickin DIES??? Also poor Tom gets hit with sticks a lot

5. Knight and Day

Pros: Incredibly funny and we need more movies like this that don’t take themselves too seriously. My mom almost choked to death on a Perrier water the first time we watched this. The chemistry is good. Roy Miller is incredibly wholesome, enthusiastic, and full of romantic whimsy. “Private Eyes” by Hall & Oates is always a banger. A fun and cheery comfort movie.

Cons: literally none if you don’t overanalyze it and just enjoy a fun movie the way it was meant to be enjoyed

6. American Made

Pros: Fun, artsy directing style, intriguing story that I couldn't guess the plot twists of; very different character from what he usually plays in terms of mannerisms and voice (lord take the wheel the things that the Louisiana accent does to me) and he is serving so many fits; the soundtrack is full of bops, and I forget just how very funny it is, especially scenes with Lucy. Lucy is a wonderful character and God bless Sarah Wright for pushing to give her more screen time.

Cons: …he dies? The end makes me v sad tbh. Also, the brother-in-law character was irritating and unnecessary as hell, imo

7. Mission: Impossible franchise (esp. 1, 3, 5, 6)

Pros: just Tom being Tom. Benji, Luther, Ilsa, and Julia are all wonderful, the theme is fire, and don’t we all just want to participate in a heist while in our best designer formal wear

Cons: we D O  N O T talk about MI 2; I could also personally use a bit more character development, but at the same time I know that’s not the kind of movies these are

8. Valkyrie

Pros: love a good anything about WWII; everyone has a favorite historical period and that is mine and idc if it’s BASIC. I can’t believe I never heard this story before, and it was so fascinating and exciting (even tho you know what's coming the whole time, you somehow still think "y'know, maybe they're really gonna do it"). I'm also not afraid to admit that he looked fresh as hell with that hairstyle and the eyepatch and in uniform. Good soundtrack too.

Cons: light on the character development and interaction; it’s pretty much just *down to business* from the beginning. And sure, you know this going into it, but THEY FAIL AND EVERYONE FREAKING DIES

9. A Few Good Men

Pros: love a good crime/legal drama, love a good autumnal aesthetic; Demi being a girlboss icon who has Been Through It and is just so done with anything and everything, lots of entertaining humor; Jack Nicholson is always a plus.

Cons: The guy from Twin Peaks annoys me, Daniel Kaffee is kind of an annoying lil bitch too a lot of the time, and I wish Demi and Tom would have kissed, just o n c e

10. Minority Report

Pros: another John Williams score, Agatha must be protected at all costs, the scene where she tells John and Lara about what Sean could have grown up to be like TEARS ME TO SHREDS. Very exciting overall, and I love a good free will vs. determinism debate. I’m also glad it ended happy and for once the dystopian hellscape was defeated.

Cons: It gets pretty slow and boring from time to time, I don’t care about most of the other characters (particularly the wife), and I am not a fan of that type of filmmaking where all of the colors are washed out and lighting is scarce

Thank you for coming to my TED talk; fare thee well

#tom cruise #90s movies #jerry maguire #cocktail 1988 #cocktail #american made #a few good men #far and away #minority report #valkyrie #mission impossible #the last samurai #knight and day

[carinavet]

Okay, I watched the live-action One Piece.

I actually don't hate it.

(Mostly.)

the things they did wrong

The fishmen. The makeup is really, really horrible. They went for "realistic"-looking skin and it just does. not. work. And the prosthetics are just bad. Really, really bad. Arlong isn't big enough. He keeps threatening to bite people but his mouth is so small relative to the rest of his face (especially because of said prosthetics) so you can't really take it seriously. It's just bad, y'all.

The den den mushi. Sooooooooooo creepy. The texture is awful and they need better puppetry.

The emotional moments don't quite hit it like the original story does. Each of my absolute favourite moments from the original have been changed juuuuuuuust enough to not give quite the same punch.

Luffy doesn't feel like Luffy. There's a very specific sort of whimsy that Luffy exudes and this guy just doesn't have it. To be fair! it is a very difficult thing to pull off! But it's also, like ... really integral to the whole story. He's got the wrong kind of smile and we never hear him giggle. He should be 100% guileless and he's just not quite there. Nami doesn't feel like Nami. She's not expressive enough, or bossy enough. She keeps trying to be the holding-everything-in-stoically type and that's just not Nami. She holds back as far as information goes, especially in the beginning, but her feelings are pretty much on her sleeve otherwise. Zoro's personality is off just a bit. He's just a bit too grumpy. We see him smile like twice. We never see him get really excited, and the one time he gets moderately excited he's still pretty stone-faced about it. Also, not letting him get genuinely happy about booze makes him come off less as really enjoying one vice and more just being a sad alcoholic. And he doesn't fully commit to the crew soon enough. He's the type to be all or nothing, so he needs to be all in from the get-go. Sanji can't do a French accent, which is kind of hilarious because he just sort of goes for An Accent and so he'll start a sentence with something that's, like, vaguely British? but then if the sentence is long enough he'll find Vaguely French halfway through.

Everyone is too old. Kaya is supposed to be 18 but that actress is in her 30s for sure. Even the kids are kids that are too old for the parts they need to play.

Except for Mihawk, who's a bit too young. Also his fake beard doesn't look great.

Some of the effects for things like Luffy stretching and Buggy coming apart. Again, tbf, this was always something that would be a problem in a live-action recreation, so it's only a minor annoyance. But there's definitely a couple of little things they could have changed that would have made a big difference in believability.

A lot of the crowd shots have a case of Main Character Syndrome. This actually helps the audience pick out important people at Gold Roger's execution, but it's kind of funny when you see Zoro among his classmates at the dojo or Nami and Nojiko with the rest of Coco Village and are like "HMMM I WONDER WHO THE MAIN CHARACTER COULD BE."

Trying a bit too hard to interconnect everything. They keep both Buggy and Arlong relevant for too long (Buggy by keeping him after his arc, Arlong by having him show up early). Garp being around for the whole show is sort of interesting and funny but it makes me wonder if they're even planning on getting to Water 7, and how they're gonna do that if they do.

the things they did right

Verbally acknowledging Zoro as the first mate. The original never dies that even though he totally is.

The wanted posters. They did a great job of recreating the posters, and the little effects they do overlaying them when they introduce new characters is fun.

Pretty much everyone's physicality. Especially Zoro and Sanji. They're very accurate to the original. Just the way Zoro stands and walks is 100% Zoro. Captain Kuro managed to be cool and creepy instead of looking stupid. Usopp's face is surprisingly spot-on.

On a related note, the fight scenes were well-choreographed. And there were a few cool shots where the camera followed someone who was jumping around.

Anything that can be a practical effect is a practical effect. It doesn't always pay off *cough* fishmen and den den mushi *cough* but it usually does, and I very much appreciate the effort.

Each arc is one episode long. 'Nuff said. Y'all know how long these damn arcs can stretch.

The Vibes. They did a really, really good job of making it ridiculous without making it ridiculous, if you know what I mean. A lot of that is thanks to the abundance of practical effects. A lot more is the lighting. They also had fun with camera angles and focus/blur to just keep things feeling not-quite-real in a way that helps rather than hinders the suspension of disbelief. They also made the show overall darker than the original, which I usually hate but in this case it really works: You can't take things like the Chop Chop Fruit or Zoro's penchant for cutting people up out of a cartoon and into a live-action without it automatically getting creepier, so leaning in to that was absolutely the right choice. It also kind of made Buggy's arc feel more real and high-stakes.

All the little details. There were a lot of them. All the characters are at least vaguely the correct nationality from Oda's Q&A tidbits. When Zoro is laid up, Nami reads him Liar Norland. You can see Mihawk's ship in the bay outside of Roger's execution. At one point you can hear "Binks' Sake" playing in the background. Just about every single costume was accurate to the original, and the sets were incredibly detailed. There are so many little details in every single bit of it that tell you that the people who made this were paying attention, and frankly that alone makes me far more inclined to forgive any mistakes I feel they've made.

#one piece #one piece live-action

[texanredrose]

Showing Off

Inspired by prompts submitted to @unsteadyshade on tumblr (here), that I reblogged earlier, or AO3 (here). Also, yes, I'm very much American but I decided to use the non-American lingo in regards to soccer here. Don't look at me expecting logic, my friends, I just do what the winds of whimsy tell me.

---

Blake pulled the hotel door shut behind her, following after her teammate and best friend who was further down the hall and carrying their tote bags. While she didn’t hold the same superstitious beliefs, Yang swore up and down they’d lose unless they brought along their ‘lucky’ practice ball; after going back to retrieve it, the woman seemed satisfied and started walking towards the elevator while Blake caught up. “This is ridiculous, you know that right?”

“Hey, don’t sass me; we’ve never lost a road game when we’ve had the ball,” Yang said, already wearing her keeper jersey, the material stretched a bit thin over her muscled frame. It had seen better days but, much like the ball, the woman refused to replace it, especially during their run up to the championship. “A little extra luck can’t hurt anyone. Except the other team, I guess.”

“It can make us late, though,” she said, one of her ears flicking back as one of the doors they passed opened and closed- had to be other patrons of the hotel, seeing as the rest of their team was already downstairs by the bus. “Which would mean we forfeit.”

“We’re not running that late,” Yang replied, throwing a grin her way. Then, lilac eyes were drawn behind them and lingered a moment before her lips pulled into a very specific smirk. Blake knew that smirk- it was the ‘oh, I’ve got an idea, you might not like it but you’re gonna do it’ expression, because aside from being one of the best keepers in the region, Yang Xiao Long was also ridiculously persuasive. Dangerously so, in fact. “Hey. Toss me the ball.”

“Your hands are full.”

“Wasn’t going to use my hands.”

Blake narrowed her eyes, vividly remembering the last time someone tried doing agility drills down a hotel hallway, and picked up on the subtle look behind them. After a few more steps, she turned to say something about the game to Yang as an excuse to glance behind them. And then, it all made sense.

A bit further down the hallway were two women, both of whom were dressed in sharp business attire, and the moment Blake returned her attention to Yang, she pointed at herself and mouthed the word ‘tall’ with a wink.

“C’mon, toss me the ball,” Yang said, coming to a stop.

Blake glanced at her watch and, although a touch reluctant, decided they had enough time for a little demonstration. Tossing the ball towards Yang, she stepped back to lean against the wall while the woman started juggling while still carrying both totes. With her best friend as a distraction, Blake could take a longer look at the women Yang was trying to impress, and realized a few things, chiefly: they weren’t just any business women following behind them.

They were the Schnee sisters.

Atlesian elites, borderline nobility, some of the richest and most powerful people in the world; the Schnee sisters were in the news for one reason or another practically every day. Blake was more familiar with the attitude and mentality of the younger sister, Weiss Schnee, because it was her actions that Blake, as a faunus, found most… interesting. All the way up until she assumed control of her family’s company, the woman didn’t seem much at odds with the stuffy, bigoted, narrow minded people found in her social circle. After, though, she not only did an unapologetic one-eighty in the other direction, she became so aggressively progressive that it created a wide schism in the highest echelons of Atlesian society. More than once, she’d deployed the surprisingly well equipped private SDC security forces to protect protestors from Atlesian police and military personnel, and paid an exorbitant amount of money to keep those protestors out of jail, either by paying off bonds or hiring attorneys. In a relatively short amount of time, she’d become a juggernaut for social changes, and the careful monopoly her scheming father had built became the ultimate tool for exacting those changes.

Blake could admire the woman’s sense of justice as well as her commitment to it.

The elder, though, she only knew by name. Winter Schnee stood on her sister’s side when it came to social issues and did something tangentially related to the SDC but, beyond that, the details were a blur. She’d never heard Yang mention either sister in anything more than a passing comment while they pursued the news together waiting for flights, certainly nothing she could recall that would explain why the woman wanted Winter’s attention specifically. However, it also wasn’t out of the ordinary for Yang to show off a bit for pretty ladies when presented the opportunity.

By the time Blake had made a decision herself, Yang had run through every trick she knew and had popped the ball up to balance on her chest. She motioned for the woman to pass the ball, which earned her a raised brow at first before lilac eyes twinkled and she popped her shoulders back to set the ball in motion.

Blake caught it before it hit the ground with her foot, stalling the ball’s momentum entirely for a moment before she began juggling herself. For her, it was less a skill she’d developed for showing off as one of honing control of her body and the ball, but she knew a few tricks, moving slightly away from the wall so she could juggle the ball in a circle around her while still facing Yang. It meant juggling with her heel behind her back briefly but she managed it without losing control and that prompted a low murmur from their audience. Impressively, she couldn’t make out the words, which made her think the speaker specifically didn’t want her to hear.

After transitioning between using her feet and knees, the faunus popped the ball up high enough for her head to get under it, her feline ears laying flat against her skull to prove she wasn’t using them to help her balance the ball in place, which earned a brief chuckle from Yang. Then, she began bouncing it atop her head while moving her head just so to get the ball rotating before allowing it to roll off her head so she could catch it with her foot.

With a glance to confirm Yang was prepared, Blake passed her the ball, and the two of them traded it for a while, trying to catch the other off guard to make the eventual save and pass even more impressive. It was a show of control and dexterity and, had they planned it, would’ve had a better end to the display. Unfortunately, a short pass from Yang resulted in both of them trying to save it, which sent the ball bouncing harmlessly down the hall until it came to a stop at Winter’s feet.

Then again, given the glint in Yang’s eye, perhaps that was her intention. “Oh, sorry about that. We’re just… warming up.”

With a jerk of her head, the faunus realized her friend was requesting some back-up. “Yes, we, uh… are on our way to a game. The semi-finals, actually.”

“We can probably get ya seats, if you want.” A nonchalant shrug. “You should come watch us play.”

The sisters exchanged a look then. The elder, questioning, and the younger… Blake couldn’t put a word to that look. It was equal parts goading and secretive, and perhaps something else dancing in blue eyes. She would need a lot more time to decipher that look.

And she found herself wanting it.

Then, without a word, Winter put her foot on top of the ball and rolled it back, popped it up, and… began juggling with just as much precision as they’d displayed. Except, unlike them- bedecked in jerseys, loose shorts, and tennis shoes- she was doing it in a form fitting pants suit and dress shoes, hampering her mobility somewhat though it hardly impacted her performance, executing all the tricks Yang had done. Then, she passed it to her sister, who, in high heels and a skirt, proceeded to do the same, keeping many of the tricks low so her skirt wouldn’t ride up. Which, of course, meant she had less room to manipulate the ball, had to move faster to get into position to execute each trick, and when she did a version of Blake’s around the world one, the faunus felt her mouth pop open in astonishment.

Once satisfied, Weiss passed the ball back to her sister, who caught it one handed.

“We appreciate the invitation. However...” Winter tossed the ball, hard enough that it hit Yang’s chest before the keeper thought to catch it. “We unfortunately have a prior engagement that requires our attention.”

The sisters began walking past the gobsmacked footballers and Blake didn’t miss the look Weiss directed her way as she spoke. “After you’ve won your game, perhaps you’ll join us in the hotel’s hot tub?”

Blake didn’t notice how close they were to their floor’s elevator until Winter reached over and pushed the button to call a car. “Unless, of course, you have your own post victory traditions that take precedence.”

Yang just shook her head while Blake managed to find her voice. “No. We don’t. Have traditions, I mean.”

“Excellent,” Weiss said, stepping into the car the moment the doors twanged open and hitting a button inside, smiling in a way that… well… Blake would call it seductive in another setting and found herself hard pressed not to call it that now. “We’ll see you there. Don’t be late.”

When the doors closed, both Blake and Yang were left standing in the hallway, both just… recovering from how mentally unprepared they were for their tricks to be used against them to great effect. After another moment, Yang turned to look at her, holding up the ball.

“Lucky. Ball.”

Blake resolved to not argue that point and instead focus on winning the game, ushering her teammate towards the stairs rather than waiting for the next car.

---

Weiss leaned back against the wall of the elevator. While they’d chosen to book this particular hotel for their business trip specifically because their favorite football team would be staying there, and they’d opted to not use the penthouse suite because they wanted a chance to catch glimpses of the team while going to and from meetings, neither expected to meet their personal favorite players in the hallway like that. Weiss had followed Blake’s career since college and, while responsibilities had prevented her from attending as many games as she would’ve liked, she always recorded them and watched them later. Up until the encounter in the hallway, that was how she and Winter had planned to spend their evening.

Now, though…

“Would it be inappropriate for me to bring her jersey to the hot tub in the hopes she’ll sign it?”

Winter made a considering noise. “Bring the jersey, leave a suitable pen in the room.”

“How would that accomplish her signing it?”

“Invite her back to the room.” Her elder sister smiled, and a twinkle in her eyes spoke to the crude humor of a former soldier. “I’ll be… elsewhere tonight.”

“Spare me the details,” she replied as they reached the ground floor. “... but thank you for the idea.”

As a general rule, Weiss was never overly fond of business meetings, but she found herself looking forward to the end of this one more than usual, if only to see where the night led.

---

Blake pushed out a nervous breath as she and Yang made their way towards the hotel’s pool area. The game itself ended in a shootout and while Blake had made the final goal that secured them a berth to the finals, she couldn’t relax quite yet. Post game celebrations usually involved Blake joining the rest of the team for a glass of champagne or a toast of some sort before the others prepared for a night on the town to celebrate the win. Most of the time, Yang went with them, leaving the faunus plenty of time to wind down with a book of her choice and a peacefully quiet hotel room. Even on the odd occurrence when Yang didn’t join the others, the blonde still found other ways of occupying herself that preserved Blake’s quiet.

So, rushing back to the hotel room to change into their swimwear before the hotel shut down their pool was a major break from their normal routine, and knowing they’d be going to meet two very beautiful and apparently incredibly talented women… well, she was just a touch nervous.

Unfortunately, her best friend didn’t share that anxiety.

“One piece or bikini?”

“What?”

“Which do you think they’re wearing?” The blonde shrugged, the tips of her hair brushing the back of her neck. Normally, Yang wore her hair down or in a thick braid for games, but seeing as she didn’t have the energy to deal with drying her hair again after the quick post game shower they’d rushed through. “I’m hoping Winter’s wearing a bikini or a two piece. She’s gotta have some abs, right?”

“You have an eight pack; what does it matter to you if she has abs?”

“It’s about the commitment.” With a smirk, she gestured towards her own abs, prominently on display thanks to her yellow bikini top. Along with a darkening bruise around her left eye, there were bruises along her ribs from a few sliding tackles that had almost sidelined the keeper entirely, but Yang was a bit tougher than their opponents expected. “It takes work to get these and keep ‘em.”

“And what’s the point of wearing a bikini top if you’re just going to wear swim trunks for bottoms?” She arched a brow, more comfortable poking holes in her best friend’s thought process than confronting reality as they neared their destination. While she, too, opted for bikini style swimwear, Blake had chosen a black top with matching bottoms and a light purple sarong around her hips. She might claim to be somewhat modest in comparison, but she was showing a bit more skin- which, rationally, she could justify because they were getting in a hot tub, not attending a gala, showing a bit of skin should be expected-

Blake shook her head, trying to calm her anxiety again.

“Gotta make her work for the goods,” Yang replied, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring her nerves. Then again, perhaps she had a few of her own that she was hiding, considering the way she reached up to fiddle with her hair. “Besides, my bottoms always ride up. Trunks are more comfortable. Not all of us have an ass that won’t quit.”

“Not judging, I just think it’s… silly. To focus on what they’ll be wearing.”

“What else is there to think about?”

“How hard we’re going to flirt.” She pointed out, tilting her head thoughtfully. “What to say, how to say it… what result we’re hoping for.”

“Don’t overthink it, Blakey.” A laugh. “Let’s just have some fun.”

They came to a set of glass double doors that granted entry to the pool area of the hotel… at which point they realized the pool officially closed half an hour ago. Yang cursed under her breath as Blake’s shoulders slumped. They’d missed their chance, it seemed.

“Oh, Miss Belladonna? Miss Xiao Long?”

“That’s us,” Yang replied as a hotel employee approached them, already grabbing a key card attached to his lanyard and holding it up to a sensor beside the doors.

“Here. Both Miss Schnees are waiting for you.”

The footballers exchanged a look, surprised by the special treatment. True, they were quasi celebrities themselves, but this hotel handled all teams from the league, which meant they weren’t any more famous than the average patron. Then again, the Schnee sisters had quite a bit more clout than they did and could probably swing something like being given unfettered access to the pool area.

With a shrug and a smirk, Yang opened one door and they entered, spotting the sisters sitting in chairs beside the hot tub. Both were reading magazines, with fresh drinks on a table between them, and were… well… Blake found she couldn’t immediately discern their taste in swimwear because both sisters were wearing football jerseys. And not just any jerseys.

“I see you took us up on our offer,” Weiss said, getting to her feet and motioning towards the hot tub before reaching for the hem of the jersey to pull it off. At a glance, Blake could tell it was the special limited edition run from a few years ago, and her number no less. And while she would be sorely tempted to assume the woman had found one last minute, the careful way Weiss placed the jersey on the chair- not dropped or thrown carelessly- made her think otherwise. Only then did she notice the woman had opted for a light blue one piece with a single strap, leaving her upper back mostly exposed. “Splendid.”

“Congratulations on your win.” Winter also set aside her magazine and stood up, revealing she was wearing Yang’s limited edition jersey, and she took the same amount of care in removing it and setting it aside. Much to her friend’s delight, the elder of the sisters did wear a bikini of a darker blue and also sported some abs, though they lacked the definition of Yang’s. “A hard fought victory like that certainly deserves a celebration.”

As the sisters entered the hot tub, Blake looked over to Yang, who seemed equal parts excited and… intimidated- and that second one was hard. But what intimidated her ultimately evolved into a challenge and Yang never backed down from a challenge. For her part, the faunus just found herself wondering if, perhaps, they had a different idea of who needed to impress who than the sisters did.

Removing her sarong, Blake tossed it onto the chair Weiss had used and went to the hot tub, noting how the sisters had chosen to sit across from each other. She hesitated in entering, if only because she didn’t want to be too forward. Yang, of course, took the seating as a goading taunt of sorts, and settled herself in the tub hardly an arm’s length away from Winter. Probably closer than would be considered polite but neither seemed uncomfortable or surprised by the decision, so Blake opted to test the waters herself, sitting approximately the same distance away from Weiss but also across from Yang.

Almost instantly, she let out a sigh of relief; while focusing on getting to the hot tub, she’d done her best to ignore the lingering aches and pains from the game. Now, though, she could feel herself relaxing as the warmth began sinking into her muscles. Usually, she just focused on stretches before bed and had a tub of balm if that failed.

“Should probably do this more often,” Yang said, obviously relaxing herself. “Forgot how good hot tubs feel after a rough game.”

“Speaking of that, did you get checked out?” Winter gestured towards her eye. “You took a few nasty hits. I’m surprised seventeen didn’t get thrown out of the game.”

“The Vipers always play hard.” The blonde tried to shrug off the concern. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You took a few shots, too.” Weiss pointed out. “How’s your knee?”

“I’ve taken worse falls.” She gave a wry smile. “But I’m beginning to suspect you know that.”

“I’ll admit I’ve been a fan of yours since your college days.” The woman shrugged one shoulder, feigning nonchalance- and Blake only suspected it was a show because blue eyes didn’t meet hers as she spoke. “I hardly think that is remarkable. You’re one of the best strikers the league has ever seen.”

“Did you ever consider playing?” At the curious look she received, Blake inclined her head. “It took me years to develop those tricks, and you did them better. That speaks to a remarkable amount of skill.”

“Well, I’ll admit I entertained the idea a time or two. Ultimately, I chose my path, and it didn’t leave enough room to become a superstar footballer.” She shook her head. “I don’t regret it but, I suppose, part of the reason I practice those little tricks to keep the dream alive.”

Her ears perked up, catching something between the lines. “Part of the reason? What’s the other part?”

“Why, to catch your eye, of course.”

“My eye?” She couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re Weiss Schnee; you don’t really need to try to catch anyone’s attention.”

The woman’s expression faltered then. “Yes, well… unfortunately, the sort of attention I garner on my own is markedly less… impressive, by some standards.”

“I’d think those people have poor standards, then,” she said, opting to tip her hand as well. “You’ve managed to galvanize social changes that have taken some kingdoms entire decades in a matter of years. Comparatively, bouncing a ball’s hardly anything. Don’t you think?”

At that Weiss laughed, a bright, high, unrestrained sound that Blake rather liked hearing. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress you, now would I? And you shouldn’t discount your own efforts outside the pitch.”

The faunus felt her lips quirk up in amusement. They’d been watching each other from afar all this time; the only thing she didn’t account for was the magnetic attraction that being in the woman’s presence seemed to engender. And, as she made an excuse of stretching to cover her moving slightly closer to Weiss, it seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling it. The woman, mysteriously, decided to move and dip her shoulders beneath the water’s surface long enough to bring out a lovely light pink blush to her skin, and when she sat back against the tub’s wall, she was a bit closer to Blake.

Surreptitiously, she snuck a glance towards Yang, if only to gauge how much teasing she would be in for on the flight back home the following day. She quickly realized her best friend wouldn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to teasing; somehow, Winter had coaxed Yang into her lap and was apparently giving the footballer a message. For her part, Yang seemed to be in a luxurious sort of heaven, eyes half lidded and with a silly sort of smile on her lips.

“Forgive my sister,” Weiss said, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I’m impressed she’s shown this much restraint.”

“I can hear you,” the woman replied, blue eyes flashing towards her younger sister. “But that can be remedied. Yang?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think this would work better if you were lying down.”

Lilac eyes widened as the woman tilted her head, glancing over towards Blake. With a small nod, the faunus made the silent agreement to avoid their hotel room for a few hours. Frankly, Yang had slept in a few lobbies over the years, when she’d returned too drunk to be quiet and not wanting to risk waking the faunus. She could spend a night elsewhere to return the favor.

“Yeah… I think you’re right.”

As the two got out of the hot tub and retrieved towels, Blake returned her attention to the woman beside her. “You don’t have to try, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Impressing me. You don’t have to try.” Blake tilted her head, leaning back to brace her arms against the rim of the hot tub. “I think that’s the part I don’t like about being with the league. The mandatory press conferences and the rules- sometimes, I just want to get straight on the bus after a game and go back to reading my book, not sit and play twenty questions for an hour. It’s like… wearing an ill fitting mask.”

“You handle them remarkably well.” Weiss smirked. “But I suppose I say that because I speak my mind a bit too bluntly during press conferences. I admire your restraint.”

“I admire your candor,” she replied, very carefully laying one arm along the tub’s rim behind the woman. “I really liked the interview you did with the Atlas Economist. It looked like you were going to give that guy an aneurysm.”

“That would’ve been impossible.” A light chuckle as she moved closer, lowering her voice ever so slightly to coax Blake into leaning closer. “He would need a brain first.”

They both laughed, using their amusement to hide their shifting movements until Weiss was pressed into her side ever so slightly. They continued talking and laughing quietly until sitting in the hot tub started becoming uncomfortable. However, the faunus did her best to ignore it simply because she didn’t want to part ways quite yet. Weiss was… a lot of things- emphatic, sharp tongued, witty- but above all good company that Blake wasn’t keen on losing quite yet. However, she couldn’t ignore that the heat of the tub was taking a toll on them both.

“Your skin’s turning red,” she said, running a thumb over the ball of Weiss’ shoulder. “We should probably get out.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They both stood and exited the hot tub, grabbing towels to start drying themselves off. While doing that, she wracked her brain for some excuse to continue their conversation but found herself coming up woefully empty. Every suggestion she could come up with either sounded ridiculous or… risque. It wasn’t like she could simply invite the woman back to her hotel room for some tea.

“Thank you for the invite, by the way,” she said, trying to buy herself some time. “A good soak after a tough game feels… fantastic. I don’t often indulge.”

Blue eyes lit up as the woman wrapped a towel around her hips. “I’m more than glad you accepted. However, if you wish to… pay me back… I’ve been meaning to ask for your autograph.”

Blake raised a brow. The request seemed… deceptively innocent, especially with the way Weiss was looking at her. “I can do that. You want me to sign your jersey?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” The barest moment of silence, and then she tilted her head. “Unfortunately, the only pen I have is in my room.”

Blake took a step closer, pleased to see she actually stood a few inches taller than the woman when she wasn’t wearing heels, and lowered her voice. “Well… I suppose we’ll have to go to your room, then.” A pause. “And, maybe, we’ll think of something else I can sign along the way.”

Weiss smiled and donned the jersey, setting her hand in the crook of the faunus’ elbow. “Perhaps. Do you have any ideas?”

“I do.” As they started walking, she chuckled. “But I wouldn’t want to use a pen to sign something so… delicate.”

The woman hummed, pointedly looking at her mouth. “I believe I know of something else you can use.”

While outwardly Blake merely smiled a bit wider, internally she asked herself a question: just how far was she willing to go?

Before they reached the elevator, she’d decided that if she wasn’t officially dating Weiss Schnee by the time she boarded the plane tomorrow, she’d be disappointed in herself.

---

Weiss stretched luxuriously in her bed as the morning rays streamed in through the window. She was sore in places she’d forgotten existed- but the pleasant type of sore, the kind that eventually turned into an itch for more, and it took conscious effort not to reach for her scroll just then. It would probably do her well to show some restraint.

That mentality lasted all of thirty seconds before her scroll was in hand and she was admiring her new background picture, taken just before Blake put on her swimwear from the night before and left to return to her room. Nothing terribly suggestive or revealing, of course, just the faunus resting her chin on Weiss shoulder. An ordinary selfie. With her new girlfriend.

She couldn’t help the smile curling her lips.

The door opened and she looked over her shoulder, watching her sister strut into the room wearing her bikini with her usual air of complete and total confidence. Her jersey was held in one hand. Probably because she wanted to… show off. “You walked down the hallway like that?”

“Of course,” Winter replied, not even batting an eye at the words ‘Property of Yang Xiao Long’ written in marker across her chest and abdomen. “I’m pleased with the outcome.”

Then, a smirk.

“Please, don’t elaborate.”

“I won’t but I do hope you were as successful as I was.”

She glanced at her scroll as a message came through from Blake, a smile coming to her lips. “Indeed I was.”

Who knew giving in to her impulse to show off would have such wonderful results.

#Monochrome #Elderburn

[inosukeslefttoe]

SO i just finished wonder egg priority and i think that with confidence i can say it has been one of my favorite animes like... ever ?? and not even from hyperfixation or obsession over it just... its so fucking real yet so simple in a way that i havent rlly seen shown in any other shows you feel ??

but first i wanna talk about how sexy the art and animation is real quick... HOMIE ITS SO GOOD LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT JUST... serotonin... the characters are all so unique and iconic and fun but not over the top in their designs yknow ??? they seem like regular every day girls but they stand out and theyre all sO CUTE !!!! also i love how the style is like this soft bubbly slice of life lookin stuff with bright happy colors and the most beautiful scenes you could find but they also have the SICKEST fight scenes complete with whimsical animal helpers and terrifying villains and crazy weapons unique to each character. and the animation. god DAMN shawty i am obsessed with everything in this show. i might make a post solely about the art later lol bc i wanna get into the other stuff.

so the themes in the show right ?? it starts just as this cute lil magical girl kinda deal but within the first episode we see that like.. oh damn... thats kinda heavy... tbh i was a little shocked and thought about stopping bc yknow bad mental health BUT i was so intrigued that i had to keep going and i am SO GLAD that i did. because this show just so beautifully discusses all these heavy topics in such an eloquent and artistically expressive way. and also like, , the juxtaposition of the charming childlike vibe with bright colors and 14 yr old girl protagonists against the dark themes of suicide and so much else,, i think is just perfect. bc a lot of heavy animes are more of the seinen genre and have some middle aged dude as a protag or make the entire color palette dim or offer little relief to the pain of these heavy themes right ?? but NO not wonder egg bitches B) because these problems arent just things that ppl face later in life or just problems that need to be talked about among adults or the edgy seinen watching squad,, these are REAL problems that face people of every age, gender etc and i think its awesome that wonder egg addresses that. some may cringe at the thought of their high schooler watching animes that discuss sexual harassment, suicide, abuse, self harm, eating disorders etc,, but in reality it is the most comforting thing i have ever come across and is basically jsut free anime therapy. because not only does wonder egg present these themes to the viewers as something real that happens to all kinds of people (making said people feel heard in a way that maybe they hadnt before), but it also makes sure to vanquish all of these forms of trauma. and the way the trauma is vanquished isnt always beautiful and it isnt always just magically gone with a poof. the struggles of overcoming or living with that sort of thing are shown in such a real and relatable way that addresses every hardship trauma survivors have to go through. and i just. god i cry bro. 

oh m y GOD and the lgbtq+ rep in this show ?? like shawty... as soon as i saw episode one i was picking up on some gay/lesbian themes but then again im sapphic and project that a lot so i tend to see that sort of stuff like... everywhere... but NE WAYS... episode ten made me FUKCING CRY BRO LIke i cant believe there was a whole trans character with a whole trans pride hoodie like LKGHKDGH my heart is just so.. so fucking full thinking about him. bc like yeah i know there are trans characters in anime but i feel like theyre always very ambiguous about actually being trans or not or erased or portrayed as a harmful stereotype or theyre constantly misgendered and still refered to as their assigned gender at birth and i hate it. HOWEVEr... Kaoru.. *chefs kiss* it was so amazing to see a character straight up say “yeah im trans” in such a casual yet powerful way bc i personally have never seen that before. and i love love loved how he went into his backstory and talked to momoe about gender bc i think thats what she rlly needed and that it helped her find herself and it makes me so happy oh my god,, and the way they talked about it never seemed forced or like it was the focal point of his existence yknow ?? like yeah he existed to help momoe overcome some of her trauma but he also just existed to be HIM yknow ?? also... personally, i headcanon momoe as a trans girl even though i dont remember it being explicitly stated plus the school scenes of her and stuff would seem like they suggest otherwise ??but,,, SHAWTY THE AMOUNT OF SUBTEXT and her complicated relationship w gender is... something i feel like a cis girl would not go through so harshly yknow ?? with all of the questioning and feeling detached from femininity or feeling like ppl dont see her as an actual girl and only like her as a guy or for her masculine traits,,, but dont take my word on this bc i myself am a cis girl but that was just my take on it as someone in the lgbtq+ community trying to educate myself on the transgender community :) either way,, wonder eggs portrayal of momoe and kaoru and the way that momoe becomes so passionate about expressing herself the way she wants to as a girl is just... good lord im gonna cry its so perfect,,,.so ... i just love this show way too much. i also am honestly super lost about the relationship btwn acca and ura-acca ?? bc i was gonna mention ura-acca as a canonically gay guy bc when i was watching i interpreted ep 11 as him being in love with acca and being jealous of Azusa (bc i mean,, they lived together (i swear to god there was only one bed in that apartment) and had a daughter together and def loved each other and also when Frill said they were husbands and then when ura-acca said he wasnt attracted to azusa but he was def jealous of their relationship ??) but then i saw somewhere that theyre brothers ?? which would make sense ig since they look kinda similar and accas daughter called ura-acca “uncle”.. but at the same time its ANIME SO THEY ALL LOOK SIMILAR and referring to gay couples as siblings is an EXTREMELY common euphemism soooo... IM JUST LOST HERE... but yeah i tried doing research and found different things so i cant say anything for sure >:( however,,, if they are canonically a lil fruity for each other... when frill refered to acca as ura-accas husband i imploded dude you never hear that sort of wording in anime.. but if theyre related i am so sorry. 

god this is so much longer than i planned it to be oops but i also love the theme about like.. relying on friends to help carry your weight but at the same time not becoming completely dependent on those friends and using their support to learn how to love yourself and rely on yourself yknow ?? bc that is exactly what healthy friendships look like. bc i think ai sort of had a codependency thing goin on with koito maybe ?? but now she has a whole squad of funky friends that are so so different but all struggle with different kinds of trauma and although they fight over it, they always get through it with each other together. and they push each other no matter what to be the best versions of themselves and they teach other that getting hurt is okay because theyre always gonna be there to pick up the pieces no matter what happens. they can give each other space when they need and adapt to meet each others needs but theyre always able to balance it out with their own needs and thats such a beautiful thing in friendships especially at their age like damn i wish i had that maturity when i was 14 but no all i had was depression. another thing is that through these friendships you get to see all the different sides of each girl; you get to see them being strong or a shining light to their friends when theyre hurting but you also get to see them being hurt and weak and allowing themselves to be on the receiving end of the comfort. their friendships allows them to have weaknesses but it also allows them to highlight their strengths and thrive off of each others. I LOVE FRIENDSHIP DUDE

next i wanna briefly mention some of the themes connected to suicide that ive noticed. a big one is the survivors guilt that ai feels once koito is dead. several times she screams that she wishes she couldve gone with koito and she dreams of a “perfect world” where they committed a double suicide. one of the main reasons for her troubles is that she blames herself for koitos death and feels like it should be her thats dead... but at the same time she feels like too much of a coward to do anything now that koito is gone. she just has all these complex and contradicting feelings that wear away at her in ways that ppl that havent gone through the suicide of a loved one could never imagine. a lot of the times when things like this are portrayed in media i feel like its more in a way thats meant to guilt trip those that have taken their own lives and paint suicide as this selfish sin thats unforgivable but... not only does wonder egg reject that idea and instead portray it as a heartbreaking tragedy with,,, so so many terrible reasons, but it focuses on the feelings of ai separate from koito without blaming her in any way. not once did i feel like the show antagonized koito or that ai blamed koito for doing any of this, but they simply mourned her loss and touched on ais reaction towards the event but separate from koito herself if that makes sense. and i think that discussing survivors guilt without painting koito as the bad guy is something so beautifully done in wonder egg that can really resonate with those that have lost a loved one to suicide and have struggled with these same things.

okay i think this is the last thing ill mention,,, but HOMIE THE PARALLEL UNIVERSE BIT AT THE END. I AM. OBSESSED. i am such a whore for anything about the multiverse okay n e ways...,, not only did this make a super epic trippy ending of season one and add a little bit more magical girl whimsy to the show,, but it had such a powerful message. from the perspective of og ai,, finding out that you killed yourself in another world is... i mean its definitely not a surprise but at the same time it rlly makes you think how close og ai herself couldve been to that point and what decisions led her out of that dark place in her life. if i were in her shoes i would be terrified and id cry bc the thought of going back to such a dark place and actually going through with something like that is my worst fear and probably something that ai fears too. but at the same time,,, think from the perspective of ai two !!! like yeah its true that theres this awful terrible version of ai that dies but theres also a whole version of ai that is a superhero magical girl fighting off monsters to save countless ppls lives !! and she has a badass lizard and a gang of awesome friends !!! at first i was worried that ai two would be jealous of og ai and compare herself to her and feel inferior but like.. THEYRE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON AND CAPABLE OF THE SAME THINGS !!! and ai two realized that !! just within the span of one episode, she went from the version of ai who took her life,, to the version of ai jumping in front of a friend to take a bullet for them and save their life. and that just inspired THE SHIT OUT OF ME. i think that ai was sent another version of herself to sort of beat her own worst enemy yknow ?? those doubts and fears that shes no good or that shes that same bystander from episode one and that she hasnt changed at all. but getting to interact with her parallel self and see her grow was just what she needed to realize that while yeah sometimes the worst thing can happen and things can be terrible but on the other hand sometimes the most wonderful thing imaginable can happen because she has the power to do either. 

so im gonna go ahead and stop rambling bc i got all my thoughts out that i wanted to for this post :D but yeah lol i might make another if i feel like it sometime. long story short: this show is perfect and it is going on my favorite of all times.

#wonder egg priority #wonder egg spoilers #ai ohto #rika kawai #momoe sawaki #wonder egg priority neiru #i forgot neirus name #anime review #wonder egg ai #lgbtq anime

[jubilantwriter]

Of Blood and Static

Chapter 3: But I'm hoping something new will happen.

(AO3)  (First)  (Previous)  (Next)

Word Count:  2729

////

The Lady is aware of the loops.  The ignorance begins at the start of her journey, where the deja vu first strikes her when she catches a glimpse of a boy in a paper bag.  The feeling remains as bits and pieces fall into place - where to run, where to hide, and where to jump to.  She knows which places are the best to hold on to when a boy in an olive coat comes running and leaping her way.  The warmth of his hand is also familiar, as is the sound of his voice, and the kindness he exudes.  Of course, as a child, she chooses not to acknowledge these strange feelings, focusing more so on their joint survival.

Things feel natural around the boy.  How she enjoys smiling and offering a small laugh in his company.  Giving him aid and comfort when he needs it.  Watching with concern and worry as he rushes off to face things on his own.  Perhaps she should have questioned why she was so quick to lower her guard around him.  Perhaps she shouldn't have ignored it.

(Although, what good would have come from acknowledging it?)

Little things keep falling through the cracks and into place as she traverses the city with him.  It's easy to call him her friend.  Easy to know how to make him smile and laugh.  Easy to know what's on his mind and predict his next move.

The cracks grow wider and wider, the picture slowly growing more and more complete as more pieces slip through to feed her memory and actions.  She calls him over to a piano, where they must jump on it over and over to make it fall.  The instinct is natural, as though she knew all along that destroying this nice instrument would be the key to their escape.

She doesn’t question how she knows it was the right course of action.  Perhaps she should have.  Mono plays on the keys, and she stops her jumping to watch him try and play a tune.  It doesn't work, but it makes her laugh, and that makes Mono laugh.

She should have learned to question this strange naturalness, these strange memory fragments that tell her to look at him in scorn, and to look at him with a kindness that matches his own.

Perhaps that's why letting him go hurts so much.  Tears trickle down her cheeks as she holds him, dangling over the ledge.

She has to let go.  She has to.  It's what her instinct tells her.

(But she doesn't want to.  She loves listening to him laugh - it's like a melody unlike the one her music box used to have.  She wants to hear it more, fearing that she'll lose that chance someday.)

Mono looks up at her with wide eyes and shock as her tears fall onto his face.  He stays shocked as she pulls her hand away from him.  Stays shocked even as she fails to form a single "goodbye" or "I'm sorry" before he disappears into the abyss.  

Once she becomes the Lady, her memories return in a bigger stream, a larger crack that threatens to bring down the entire wall held up between her memories and not-memories.  It's then that she realizes what the television must be for.

(His eyes looked just like the Thin Man's.  The connection was made, but she never stopped to question how she knew.  Now that she has all the time until her death, she knows why the resemblance struck her as uncanny.)

She presses her hand against the glass of the screen as though it is second nature and watches as it turns on by itself.  As she waits for the channel to stabilize, she can't help but wonder just how many times they have done this for her to start out with the picture growing steadily and steadily more complete when she wakes up as a child.  How many times has she dropped Mono?  How many times have they fought, betrayed, hurt each other before either of them could remember that they've done this before?

Ignorance is bliss, so they say - but to always be so ignorant as a child and then face the consequences as an adult, knowing that the mistakes they made could have been avoided...

Her fingers curl against the warming glass.  This television wasn't always here.  It must have been through the sheer patience and willpower of one of them that mended their relationship enough for this television to be here.  The earlier loops remain a fuzzy recollection to her, but for a man who keeps memories like recordings, it must have pained the Thin Man with each dragging iteration for them to finally reach this stage.  

The silhouette of said man appears on the screen, and he looks just as defeated, just as tired, as her many loops have shown her before.  She knows the reason for why they continue this endless game of catch-and-release, why she convinces him that there is still a way out for him.

Survival.

But even she's grown tired of her own excuse.

"Mono?"  No words greet her as he remains slumped in his chair.  "Mono, I'm sorry."

"Mono?"  The words feel more like an echo than clear text on a screen.  "Strange of you to start off with my childhood name."

"It's your name."

"Not anymore."  He straightens in his seat, ramrod and upright as if assuming a position of sorts.  "Mono belongs to the boy with the paper bag.  I'm not that boy anymore, my Lady."

"You'll always be Mono, just as I will always be Six," she presses.  Her mask clinks against the glass as she leans forward.  "I'm sorry, Mono, for dropping you again."

No words appear on the screen.  This is it, she thinks, no more second chances, no more loops.  But why does she care?  Is it really for survival?  To continue this farce of being alive just to die and live to be tortured and traumatized and broken and betrayed?  For so long, she believed that this was how it was supposed to be.  But she was always good at lying.

Especially to herself.

"I'm sorry," she repeats, because that's all she can say.  He's tired, but she's pushed him past his limits time and time again.  And he allowed her to, just because of- what?  Because he didn't want to be alone?  Because he used this to enact his own act of vengeance, whatever that may be?

She got more out of this than he ever did.  Perhaps he realizes this.  Perhaps that's why he always asks why she drops him.  Perhaps that's why he always holds a thinly veiled plea for her to give it up.  He could end the loops easily.  He could just not capture her younger self, not harm a hair on his younger self, and they could both escape the Tower.  It's that easy.

(...Right?  She digs through her memories, hoping to come across a shard that reveals this to her.  But alas, she can't find one.  What she finds instead is a pile of grounded dust hidden amongst the shards and puzzle pieces, as though someone had thoroughly crushed it and ground it into the floor to erase it from her mind.  And only one person could have done that.)

"I'm sorry," she says again, because that's all she can say.  "I'm sorry for letting you down again."

"You didn't."  She almost misses his words flashing on the screen, and it's almost pathetic how she clings to them.  As if she committed no wrong.  "I promise you didn't."

"I let you fall.  Again."  And for what reason?  There's always a reason.  But she can't find one this time.  Not one that makes sense, to be precise.  Because she didn't want to let him go.  She didn't. 

"I know."  His words are oddly calm, strangely soothing.  They shouldn't be, after all she's put him through.  As if she's the one who needs comforting.  "I know you did.  But I'm not upset."  

"Why?"  She presses him for answers, because there's no way he can be so calm about this.  How many times have they repeated this?  For her sake?  Never his sake, just hers.

"You gave me a gift this loop."

"...What?"

"A gift."  As if to fully emphasize his point, he opens his hands to reveal something.  She squints at the screen, but she can't see what it is that he holds so tenderly in his hands.  "Do you remember?  The hat you found for me."

She blinks behind her mask, nearly stunned silent at the memory.  "I... do."  It was an old, ratty thing that she found in one of the apartments they'd stumbled through.  She had picked it up behind his back as he was searching around for anything they could use, the white of the hat long since dirtied and the ends of the ribbon tattered with age and possible abuse.

A sailor's cap.

When she first presented it to him, his delighted squeal made her smile proudly as he turned to take off his bag and put the hat on.  It was bigger than his head with the rim of the cap slipping over his eyes a bit, but he smiled widely for her to see before turning away bashfully to hide his face completely.  He'd only worn it for that moment, and she'd concluded that it was a pretty bad hat since it didn't hide his face like he wanted.

"I loved it.  I still do."  The affection from his words startles her.  "Now, it only fits on the tip of my finger, but I still wish that I could have worn it more around you."  A pause.  "You showed me a kindness I didn't expect.  You rarely give presents, after all."

"It was by pure chance that I found it."  It wasn't like she was actively searching for it - the sheer dumb luck she possessed that day was what allowed her to come across it.  His love for hats was firmly cemented in her mind, and the choice to present it to him was purely on impulse.  Like playing together in the school playground.  Or sitting down by the vending machine to try out all the weird, flat drinks it had.  Pure impulse.  

"Still."  He tenderly cradles the tiny thing in his hands, and she swears that she can see the smile on his lips despite the distance between them.  "It was something different."  

Meaning is pressed upon his words, and she struggles to find the right memory for it.  But before she can give him a response, his words flash on the screen once more.  Somehow, there's a bit of whimsy attached to them, as if he's expecting her to have run out of excuses by now.

"So tell me, dear friend, why did you let me go that day?"  She can almost hear his soft tone from her side of the screen (how she so desperately wants to hear it again).  

"I..."  Her mind struggles to find a reason.  Any reason, really, to have let him go.  She presses her lips into a thin line, unseen due to her mask.  What could she say?  What does he want her to say?  For what purpose does she need to create a reason for letting him go?  Her mind stumbles upon a memory that continues like a loop.  A horror that stings her conscience like a lingering wound.  Well, better to open up than to let it fester, right?  "I wanted a do-over."

"A do-over?"  He tilts his head to the side, curious by nature.  "How would you know that as a child?"

"We've been through these events so often, Mono, that things tend to linger."  She's lying, of course, but perhaps he knows that already.  "So of course the feelings can carry over."

"And why did you want a do-over?"  

"I..."  It’s not something she’s proud of - it’s something she’d rather keep buried forever until she dies and repeats the same horrible, Hunger-induced mistake again, but what’s a few demons between friends?  "Before I became the Lady, and when I was still Six, I developed this unruly Hunger."

"Yes, I recall you telling me this before."

"So you would know that I must feed this Hunger before it consumes me entirely."  She prepares herself as she watches him lean forward in interest.  

"What did you eat, Six?"

Ah, he used her name.

"I... may have eaten a child."

"...Excuse me?"

"I ate a child."  She watches as he straightens in his seat, no doubt horrified by her admission.

"You... ate a what?"

"A child.  As a child."

"As a child?"

"By accident, may I add."

"By ACCIDENT?" 

Oh, she didn't know he could do that with his words.

"By accident."  There's no use in skirting the edges of this conversation, now that she's dredged it up herself.  "Allow me to explain."

"I don't think I want an explanation."

"You do, I insist."  She pulls her hand off the screen to gesture elegantly through the series of events that led to her consumption of the nome.  How she had powers to turn children into nomes as an adult.  How she, as a child, had no idea that these nomes she'd encounter were actual children.  How she, in her vicious Hunger, lashed out at a nome trying to help her and... consumed it.  How she, as an adult, finally connected the dots.  By the time she finishes her tale, the Thin Man is cradling his head in his hands instead.  "And that is why I dropped you.  I needed a do-over badly."

"Because you ate a child."

"Because I was going to consume a child, and I had the forethought to plan ahead."  She watches as he drags his hands down his face, perhaps rethinking his earlier affection.

"Six, I..."  His words trail off, as he fidgets in his seat.  "I can't say that I've been any kinder to children than you have, but I can at least confidently say that I haven't eaten any."

"They are actually quite tender and sweet-"

"I really do not want to know."  She giggles as he manages to silently cut her off.  "But.  I guess.  I can understand your reasoning."  His shoulders slump in what she can only assume is a sigh.  "We can try again, so long as you try not to eat another child."

"I can't make any promises."

"Please, I am begging you.  At least not as a child."

She smiles as she returns her hand to the warm glass.  "I can try.  After all, that's the whole point of me dropping you, hm?  For another chance to do things right."

"Please.  Please do this right."  She watches him put something away in his suit pocket, and a fondness warms her soul as he pats it securely.  "Please do not resort to cannibalism so early on.  I can't say the same for when you're an adult but... at least as a child.  Please?"

"You're begging quite a lot, my good sir."

"If you dropped me in hopes of preventing this singular tragedy from continuing, I think it is within my rights to beg for you to keep your word."

"True."  She hums softly to herself as she curls her fingers against the screen.  "Perhaps I can surprise you again this time around."

"Perhaps."  He pauses from his side of the screen as he straightens his posture.  "But knowing you, I'm sure you will."

She smiles behind her mask, despite knowing the tragedy that befalls them.

(A little boy in a blue sweater tries to run past her as she screams in rage.  Before he can get any further, she captures him in her grasp and watches as he struggles against her hold.  She could turn him into a little scrabbling creature, doomed to labor thanklessly in the depths of her ship.

But.

She tosses him at the wall, an audible thud in her dressing room as the shadows drag him away from her sight.  It would be a waste of energy to deal with this one when she has more pressing matters to deal with.  And besides, she has enough nomes to exploit for loops to come.)

The loop ends with the creaks of bending buildings and the groans of a rocking ship.

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #ln lady #ln thin man #ln six #ln mono #i was debating between a sailor's cap and a boater's hat for mono originally #boater hat because the rim is bigger and it still fits six's aquatic theme #but... sailor's cap is cuter #if you ignore the naval implications #imagine!!! mono running around with a little ribbon trailing after him #all donald ducking up the place #ADORABLE I LOVE IT #also i like to think that six didn't actually enjoy eating the nomes #she hugs them at first!! #i think her eating a nome was a result of her losing control of herself #and it kinda fucks her up a bit #you eat one nome #next thing you know you're eating a grown lady #you poor poor child

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: In the Garden of Mindy

So today’s episode is neither a regular Pinky and the Brain skit nor a mere cameo. Today’s episode is…different, as the opening that spoofs the 1980s CBS Special Presentations pops up.

Perhaps the Warner Siblings can shed some light on this?

“Hi. We’re the Warner Brothers.”

“…And the Warner Sister.”

Look at these smug little gremlin children. You just know something is wrong when they make faces like that.

“And we’d like to invite you and all the members of your household…”

“…to gather around the TV set and join us now…”

“…for a very special episode of Animaniacs.”

“And what’s so special about it?”

“I’m not wearing any pants!”

…Wakko, you’re never wearing any pants.

Okay, okay, so we have the usual opening song and then the real explanation comes along.

“Welcome to the Animaniacs test kitchen!”

Oh no…

“We’re cookin’ up something really different for today’s show. All we need are our ingredients!”

Oh, kids, no!

“A dash of Pinky and the Brain!~”

WARNERS, PLEASE!!!

Man, the mice look so worn out. Did they…try to escape the Warner Siblings to avoid this whole thing? Like, that’s the only reason I can think of for why they look so tired as opposed to surprised or nonchalant like the other characters: They’re exhausted from attempting to run away. And for Pinky to be tired out is very, very telling.

“A cup of Slappy Squirrel!~”

Slappy is resigned to her fate.

“A tablespoon of Goodfeathers~”

I’m sorry about the smear face I managed to capture on you, Yakko.

I love how Bobby’s smirking a little, Squit is grinning like usual, and Pesto is looking at both of them like “If this is in any way you guys’ fault, I swear to the Godpigeon you’re all in for a beaking.”

“Add Rita, Runt, then swirl!~”

Meanwhile, Rita and Runt are just baffled.

“We add a pinch of Hippos~”

Why do you only have one of them?

…Wait, this is a fat joke, isn’t it? Goddammit.

“Buttons and Mindy, too~”

“Now top it off with Skippy Squirrel~”

Buttons and Flavio right now:

“What’s that make?

Animaniacs Stew!~”

Well, okay. We can at least call everything that results from this by a catchy name: The Stew AU.

“What’d we come up with?”

“Just watch…”

Oooh, children. You’ve committed a culinary evil this day.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain~”

So we’re mixing up the Animaniacs cast of characters and shows today.

[sighs]

Okay, so I guess it’s time to explain the basic premise of the Buttons and Mindy shorts and why they’re not fondly remembered, huh?

Well, the whole thing with Buttons and Mindy is a variation on the Baby’s Day Out type of scenario. Buttons the family dog is put in charge of guarding and babysitting Mindy, a friendly and curious toddler, by the mother of the family. The mother leaves to go…somewhere, and Mindy inevitably wanders off to chase after a bug or something new and interesting that she sees. Buttons goes after her because he loves Mindy very much and wants to keep her safe and be a Good Dog, and Mindy naively and unknowingly wanders into increasingly dangerous and life-threatening situations that Buttons must save her from, all the while getting beaten and bruised by the situations that were threatening Mindy.

The shorts usually end with Mindy and Buttons somehow ending up back home with Buttons ragged from the abuse he’s endured and Mindy perfectly fine except for maybe not being tied to her tether or in her playpen or whatever. The mother comes home and sees that Mindy is not quite where she was when she left her, or the surrounding area is a mess or something equally not that terrible, and berates Buttons for not taking better care of Mindy and calling him a Bad Dog.

And that’s where it ends.

If you’re not busting a gut at that description, congratulations, you are just like 90% of the Animaniacs audience.

The reason these shorts just don’t work for a lot of viewers, myself included, is that this kind of scenario is only funny once or maybe twice. After that, you just end up feeling bad for Buttons and don’t want to see a cartoon dog go through a conga line of pain that he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention that the whole premise can be boiled down to “Severe Parental Anxiety: The Show”, and not a lot of people like feeling that way for ten minutes or so per cartoon episode.

The reason the scenario works for a comedy movie like the aforementioned Baby’s Day Out is because the people going after the baby in that movie are kidnappers and obviously terrible people who only look out for the child’s safety so they can hold the kid for ransom, thus the pain they go through while the child remains okay is funny. Trying to do the same thing with an innocent family dog that just wants to keep a toddler safe? Not very funny at all. It’s just sad.

“Mindy and the Brain!

One’s a small child,

And the other’s…the Brain!~”

So now we have a Buttons and Mindy episode with Brain filling in for Buttons. Already this is…not great, but I suppose it’s the only suitable fit for Brain because he’d have it so, so much worse if he was put in the cast of the other skits.

I like the Goodfeathers skits, but I feel like Bobby and Pesto wouldn’t put up with his world domination shtick and end up berating him and/or beating him up. And Squit? Squit’s a do-gooder but he definitely doesn’t have Pinky’s level of passive subordination. Brain would be completely out of his league.

This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t want to see Brain interacting with the Goodfeathers, because holy shit yes PLEASE I would love the chaos that would ensue. I just think Brain wouldn’t last on his own with them.

Brain would, again, be completely out of his element in a Slappy Squirrel cartoon. Slappy’s skits hinge on her being a senior Looney Toon-type who knows just how to handle absurd scenarios and villains. Brain gets lost and confused incredibly quickly when unexpected situations pop up. He’s not a quick thinker in general. He’d be toast.

Being inserted into a Rita and Runt skit… Well, Rita wouldn’t be a good partner for obvious reasons that will become even more apparent later. And Runt is kind and a bit dimwitted but he’s no Pinky. Runt isn’t the type to be interested in helping to take over the world. He just doesn’t have the skills to do…almost anything that Pinky can, and he doesn’t have the drive to do it. Runt just wants a home and that’s it.

As for the Hip Hippos, there’s a skit of theirs down the line where Brain is involved and it honestly turns out about as well as it does for Brain in this episode.

So, let’s see how Brain fares in a world without Pinky.

“He uses his lobe

To overthrow the globe!~”

Also, we’re again treated to TMS doing the animation, which certainly elevates this skit quite a bit.

“She’s whimsy,”

I love how Brain goes from shock and surprise to absolute petulant grumpiness after seeing that Mindy put him in a jar.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

If only this was the extent of your humiliation today, Brain. If only.

[Various raspberry and baby babbling noises]

“Hi, Lady!”

“It’s ‘Mom’.”

This is honestly the only joke I ever liked in the Buttons and Mindy shorts. Apparently it was based on something a real child of a friend of an Animaniacs creator would say to their mom.

“Now listen, honey, mommy has to go to a better parenting conference. You stay right here and play.”

A “better parenting conference”, huh? Lady, you need it more than you know. For many reasons.

“Okay Lady, I love you, buh-bye!~”

Is anyone else getting a horrid sense of foreboding and dread from Mindy’s doll looking like a simplified Elmyra?

“Now, Brain, you keep an eye on Mindy while I’m gone.”

Nothing like leaving a mouse in a cage in charge of a toddler, huh?

Gosh, brain’s so adorably chubby in this episode. Look at him. Look at that grumpy face and that pudgy belly.

“I always get an attitude from him…”

Yeah, he’s… Yeah. That’s Brain, all right.

“At last, that meddler is gone! I’m free to begin my plan to…conquer the world!”

I love that back shot of Brain so much. It’s perfect. That’s the perfect Brain proportions and I can only dream of being able to draw cartoons that well.

“First, I’ll use telepathy to open the cage.”

C-come again? “Telepathy”?

Brain, honey… You’re looking for the word “telekinesis”. You should know this.

Also I guess Pinky’s not the only one with telekinesis capabilities.

The fact that he cocks his head to the side when he turns the trowel with his mind is a nice little detail.

“Now to get Mindy…”

That strut, though. He’s a mouse on a mission.

“Come, Mindy, it’s time for us to conquer the world!”

...Okay, I’ll say it: Mindy is very cute in this shot.

Meanwhile Brain...looks like a gremlin.

“Why?”

“By right of superior intelligence, I am best suited to guide the destiny of this planet.”

Careful, Brain. You’re getting dangerously close to--

“Why?”

“My empirical powers give me the mandate.”

BRAIN, this is starting to sound like eugenics...!

“Why?”

“Because it’s something I want to do!”

Oh lord, without Pinky to reel him in and remind him of all the real reasons he wants to conquer the world, the Brain of this universe has devolved into a mouse driven purely by ego and spite.

His little tantrum is adorable, though.

“Okay, I love you! [MWAH~]”

“I am uncomfortable with that.”

The Brain be like: What is this...”affection” you speak of? This is new and scary to me.

“Now listen closely, Mindy: Using the gardener’s weed killer, manure, and a little zoysia grass,--”

Zoysia grass is an actual thing, by the way. It’s the kind of grass you see mostly on golf courses.

“--I will construct a powerful stink bomb!” 

GAH! No need to punctuate the term by making your eyes bulge, Brain.

“We’ll use the lawn mower engine to construct a rocket and fill it with the gas. When precisely launched, the prevailing winds will spread the gas across the world’s capitals.”

As impressed as I would be with you being able to make a rocket from a lawn mower engine, Brain, it’s kind of overshadowed by you doing that thing again where you make a drawing animate like a video. Another strange power to add to the list, I suppose.

“As the stench drives the government officials out into the streets, we will rush in and seize power!”

Good lord, Brain, calm down. You’re gonna break that pointing stick!

“You understand?”

“Mousey!~”

You’re...not very good with kids, are you, Brain?

“Pretty Brain mousey…!”

“I am mortified.”

I don’t see why, you look positively precious.

“Little mousey big head!”

Mindy, dear, I too wish to squish this cute little megalomaniacal mouse sometimes but you’re doing it way too hard.

“Put me down, Mindy, or I shall have to hurt you.”

“Okay, I love you, buh-bye!”

The Brain: [is a mouse with genius intellect and gadgetry know-how with the drive to take over the world]

Also The Brain: [gets dunked on by a toddler merely dropping him on the ground]

“I sense I’ve completed the first step of my plan: Finding manure.”

That’s one way to look on the bright side, I suppose.

Sweetie, you’ve got something stuck on your head still.

“Pungent aroma, if I do say so.”

“Now to construct the rocket…”

...Why would you take the mask off now? You’re still right over top of the stink bomb! Brain, have the fumes messed with your thinking abilities already?

I do like the animation of him tearing the mask off, though.

“Buggy! Buggy!”

“All right, Mindy: Bring me the mower!”

If you ever need a pose that sums up Brain perfectly, it’s this one right here. This is him distilled down to his purest form. God bless TMS for this.

“Soon the world will be mine!”

Uh, yeah, about that...

“Woooow! Buggy go fast! Wheeeeeee!~”

“Whoooooaaaa! GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“Beh, peh, EUGH!”

Brain’s plans go to shit really fast without Pinky around. Sometimes quite literally, it seems.

“Buggy go ‘round!”

[Running in the 90s starts playing]

“Ahahaha!”

Don’t worry folks. As always, Mindy is okay. Brain, however...

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Something I missed on my first viewing of this episode: the grass around Brain’s feet as he walks around covered in his stinkbomb juice dies near instantly.

“Wahahahaha! Silly Brain!”

“This is most unexpected.”

Is it, though? Is it really, Brain?

So, uh, something that caught me off-guard while watching this for the first time is what happens next.

Pinky and the Brain is, obviously, a Warner Brothers cartoon with some Looney Toon sensibilities. Despite that, though, while there is the occasional being-flattened-like-a-pancake or being-covered-in-soot-after-an-explosion types of cartoon slapstick and such, it doesn’t really go much beyond that when it comes to cartoonish injuries and such. The worst I’d ever seen it get in this show is at the end of Opportunity Knox when Pinky and Brain are all wrapped up in bandages and some of their fur has been scraped off raw. Even then, that was surprisingly “graphic” for the show.

But this upcoming bit?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! D8

--was my reaction the first time. It’s not bloody and gory, but seeing Brain being sliced into sections by a lawn mower is just...startling, to put it mildly. To my knowledge (and well, it has been decades since I regularly watched the show, so take this with a grain of salt), the Pinky and the Brain Animaniacs sketches and the spinoff never does something this Looney Toons to them.

And what really gets me is that he’s not just cut into sections with his eyeballs popped out, it’s that there’s an obvious hole in the middle of each section??? For some reason??? What that to imply space for his skeleton?!? A creamy center filling?!?

TMS, you could have just animated him in sections like some kind of mousey marshmallow, why did you include the holes?!?

[Press F to Pay Respects]

“Bleh! Brain smell like poo-poo!”

“I must re-think my present career…”

Honestly, Brain? Without Pinky to help you, I’d say it’s a good idea to just try and escape this family first and then maybe try on your own to take over the world. You might have a slightly better chance then.

“What’s that horrible smell?! Is that you, Brain?! Have you been allowing Mindy to feed you old cheese again? Bad mouse! Bad, bad mouse!”

Wait, “again”?

“…I hate being chided.”

You know, it’s interesting how he says that about this human woman chiding him, but in the regular Pinky and the Brain universe Pinky will sometimes chide Brain for doing something dubiously immoral, and while he may hate it there too...he more often than not backs down and admits to his faults when it’s Pinky doing it.

“But she’ll be gone soon, then I can begin my plans for tomorrow: Another plot to take over the world!”

“But first: A bath.”

I mean, yeah. Priorities.

“He’s stinky,

They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

Well, I never thought we’d get a Brain bath scene until the comics but here we are.

I wonder if Pinky would find it equally as appealing to watch as that one...

Okay, that sure was...an episode. Let’s see how the other half of the equation is doing.

“They’re Pinky and the Cat!

Yes, Pinky and the Cat!

Her name is Rita,~”

Oh NO... 

I love the contrast of these two shots. It’s as if Pinky’s self preservation instinct kicks in only long enough for him to be vaguely worried about having a cat in his cage...and his lack of attention span overtakes it and he does whatever the hell this is.

“He’s a lab rat!~”

“A mouse!”

At least he still has it in him to be offended enough to correct the Warners about his actual species.

“They live inside a cage,

Making less than minimum wage.~

Aww...

Oh, Pinky, sweetie... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.

“It’s dinky,~”

“They’re Pinky and the Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat!~”

Pinky making faces in the reflection of the water bowl is another bit of animation that’s used in the spin-off’s opening theme. It’s kind of weird to pull something from this particular segment, but whatever.

“What do you want to do tonight, Rita?”

It was so difficult to get a shot of Pinky’s cute little coy stance here, but it was worth it. Look at this cute, naive little mouse. He just wants to be friends, Rita!

“I dunno, eat you for supper?”

[GULP]

[Press F to Pay Respects...Again]

“So far, this is my favourite episode.”

“Narf! Oh, roomy accommodations, Rita!”

Don’t worry, folks, he’s fine! Yup. He’s okay somehow.

Lord, I hope this didn’t awaken a vore fetish in anyone.

“She ate the rat

‘cause Rita is a cat, cat, cat, cat, cat!~”

So yeah, that’s the end of this little experiment by the Warner Siblings. Well, the end of what’s relevant to this blog series, anyway. There’s also a skit with Pesto and Runt trying to find a home, which is honestly the best one out of this whole bunch of AU one-shots.

Then there’s a Katie Ka-Boom and Chicken Boo crossover, which is as underwhelming as you can imagine.

There’s a short where Dot takes the place of Slappy Squirrel, which goes about as well as it can after the theme song repeatedly calls her “Dottie the Squirrel”.

Lastly, Slappy takes the place of Dot in a Warner Siblings skit (with a cameo with Flavio as Skippy) where the Warners barge in on a very thinly veiled parody of Saddam Hussein and, uh... Well, it’s about as awkward to watch as it sounds. Props to Slappy for not really being interested in any part of that skit, though.

Man, after this utterly bizarre set of skits, I think we really need that full episode length Pinky and the Brain episode, don’t we?

Soon, folks. Soon.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #In the Garden of Mindy #Pinky and the Cat

[tremble-in-the-hips]

All right, you asked for it. A fucking Picture of Dorian Gray fanfiction I wrote in high school. Pine away, gays.

Dorian’s leg bobbed furiously. The cigarette between his fingers smoldered to an ashen stub. On his velvet purple couch, he stretched out, perplexed by the painting strung above the fireplace. He shuddered as his own oil-glazed eyes peered at him. 

They weren’t really his eyes, he thought. The eyes belonged to Basil, whose skilled hands opened the window into Dorian’s soul, now sitting on the mantle. Dorian felt Basil’s presence in the canvas. His hands, cramping around a paint brush; his one eye open as he perfected his vision; his dark hair falling in clumps in front of his eyes. The concentration and adoration Basil put into creating the image was powerful. As he stubbed out his cigarette with a flick, Dorian felt the artist’s careful scrutiny staring back at him as he sat. He rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle as he thought of being in Basil’s studio just that afternoon. 

“Don’t listen to Harry,” Basil had warned. They were standing, a breath apart in the waning sunlight. Anxiously, Basil dug beneath his fingernails with a pencil to dislodge layers of crusting paint. 

Dorian had scoffed as he straightened his cuffs. “Basil, I’m beginning to see a pattern,” he chuckled. “For someone you trust, you condemn Harry rather harshly, don’t you think?”

Basil smiled politely. Dorian’s smile unraveled. “What,” he cried, “have I said something amiss?”

Basil met Dorian’s eye and laughed as he clasped his rough hands around one of Dorian’s. “No, never, my dearest,” Basil cooed, “I only wondered when I claimed to trust Harry.”

Dorian bent towards Basil. Concerned, he whispered, “You doubt his loyalty to you? Your friendship?”

Basil shook his head with a grin and laid a firm hand on Dorain’s shoulder. Head bowed, he turned back towards the painting on the opposite wall. “That, I don’t doubt,” Basil proclaimed, “ours is a friendship more like a commitment than marriage. We’ve seen too much together, know too much about each other. He will take my secrets to the grave with his cynicism and darkness which he so loves to spread,” he muttered. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

Dorian eyed Basil playfully. “So, your lack of trust stems purely from experience? One too many nights of debauchery spent face down in a ditch due to one nefarious Henry Wotton?” Dorian stepped forward and took up all of Basil’s view. “Too many secrets falling out of his pockets?”

Basil chuckled and pushed Dorian away. Dorian giggled and shoved him back. The two poked and pulled on one another until Basil brought his hands over Dorian’s cheeks and held him back, both of them laughing raucously. (Seated on his couch, Dorian grinned at the thought.) Basil sighed and the air was calm. “Maybe,” he replied simply. 

Dorian clasped Basil’s shoulders and shook him once. “My God, Harry dares to decry marriage when he is married to you!”

Basil leaned heavily on Dorian’s shoulder, guffawing as his knees gave out. Wiping joyful tears from his eyes, Basil sighed, “Oh, but only Harry would believe a friendship akin to marriage worth cherishing and the only truly good purpose for marriage besides politics.” Basil stood up straight, eyeing Dorian from beneath his curtain of hair. “More than anything, the man is quick to decry romance.”

“Ironic, for a man with cynically romantic notions,” Dorian cried with a laugh. He looked adoringly at Basil. “What would he think of a friendship akin to romance?”

Basil bit his lip, eyes wandering absently to his left. He scoffed, “More than likely shaking his grim head at us.”

Dorian huffed, emerging from his revere startled and breathless. Friendship akin to romance, he thought, what a delightful delusion. He could hear Henry Wotton’s voice repeat such a sentiment in his head. He shuddered. He sometimes did find Harry outrageously grim, even when he followed Harry with a childlike curiosity and adoration. As embarrassed as he was, he found himself smitten with the lord; Wotton was handsome and charming and enticingly treacherous. Whatever Wotton said felt like honey, despite later burning like vinegar. 

Basil’s warning had shaken him. Dorian paused, considering how the night was to proceed. His party, which was to include Basil and Dorian, were to head to the theater after the club and witness one of Sybil’s first performances after their proposal. He was torn, intrigued and terrified by Harry’s promise of disappointment from Sybil’s love. Part of him wanted to continue heedless, so infatuated was he with Sybil; yet he felt hesitant, and chanced leaving Sybil if he got scared. 

It felt real, his love for Sybil. More real than even Harry’s cynicism could penetrate. 

Could there be a potential for failure in a feeling so strong? If only he could explain it to Harry! He paced the living room, drawing up articulate analogies. His satisfaction with Sybil was as permanent as the spring bloom, as lingering as a smoke cloud from a pipe, as tender as Basil’s affectionate brush stroke. 

Dorian skidded to a halt in the doorway, hand clutching his chest. Why do I still think of Basil? he thought. He flopped into a lounge chair, groaning. One of his servants came to him, mumbling about the arrival of Harry and Basil (did his heartbeat quicken?) to take him to the club, then the theater. His heart thumped as he plucked a flower from a vase on the counter and twisted the stem clean off. He pocketed the newly fashioned corsage. A beautiful tiger lily, muted orange with maroon spots. 

. . . 

His corsage lay crumbled in his hand. His entire body felt heavy, as if sinking into the earth. The theater box, already half empty since the second act, felt cold and bitter. 

Henry put it best. “Terrible,” he stated factually, “just terrible. Ah well - flames burn out. Such is life, such is theater.”

“This isn’t right,” Dorian gasped, barely looking up from the flower in his hand. He studied the creases in the petals. He attempted to smooth them out with his thumb, growing annoyed when the petals curled around his fingers. He huffed, “she must be ill, or upset, or possibly inebriated, or-”

“Oh dear, sweet Dorian,” Henry sighed, laying a hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian barely looked up. “We both know those possibilities aren’t true,” Henry crooned. With a sniff, he looked toward the stage exit. “You’ve got to hand it to her thought,” he sighed, “she loves you. It’s clear in her face, the way she looked out into the audience, the way she breathed. That’s love. But it’s normal love, average - and acted love will always be more potent. Or at least it will present better on stage -”

“Where’s Basil?” Dorian cut in, shrugging off Henry’s hand with an irked groan. 

“Home by now,” Henry relayed in a monotone, “he left partway through the curtain call, had to attend to a friend or a casserole or his own melancholy or something.” Dorian heard the click of a pocket watch opening. “Well,” cried Harry conspicuously, “your Juliet has more than likely returned to her dressing room now. I suggest you have a chat with her.”

Dorian grit his teeth, prickling against his clothes and skin. His annoyance felt like bile rising in his throat and he felt like spitting. Suddenly he was up, throwing the corsage against the floor. Through the unsettled curls of his hair, Dorian saw Henry step back with wide eyes and a smile.  

“Dorian, love, what’s got you flying like this?” he questioned playfully.

Dorian huffed and crossed his arms. He felt inflamed, like a deceived child. Was this the product of love? A loss of sense, a loss of purpose? Sybil was supposed to be Dorian’s greatest prize, the person for him to be proud of forever. When she flitted across the stage, he wanted nothing more than to claim the moment, claim her, with a fiery passion. She was something to behold (in her prime, Dorian thought bitterly, which seems to have ended) and she was something he wanted to behold constantly. 

Dorian flew, a trail of orange tiger lily petals falling at his boots. He felt confident in his ability to tell her just how he felt and nervous of her reaction. But he was angry! Truly angry! To watch her perform on any other night was to watch the gods of grace and whimsy in flight. What would become of the world, his world, without her gift, his pride? For her to fail or give up performance would be like if Basil put down his brush. 

Dorian hovered hesitantly in front of Sybil’s dressing room. He could feel his heart clattering against his breastplate. He reached for the doorknob and felt his ill intentions bubbling in his throat. She’s a charlatan, Dorian thought wickedly, and I am a willing sucker to her ruse. She embarrassed me in front of my friends! She doesn’t deserve my advances, my praise. What a failure! I’ll see to it she realizes the shame, the embarrassment. I mean, what would Basil think - 

Dorian’s hand shook violently as he grasped the doorknob. His breath escaped in sharp gasps. His grip loosened. To his left, he peered through a window and a vision formed of his own living room through the darkness. In the projection, he saw Basil smoothing the ruffles in Dorian’s jacket. His face was splattered with paint and a playful smile pulled his lips. 

“You really are a wonder, Dorian,” Basil’s voice echoed. Dorian’s mirror image blushed. “So youthful, yet so open; so beautiful, yet so kind.” The vision of Basil looked away from the vision of Dorian and stared, knowingly, at Dorian in real life. Terror gripped Dorian and shame overcame him as the vision smiled at him, concern in his eyes and a slight, adoring tilt in his head. The vision whispered, “I can always trust you to handle important things with care and thoughtfulness. It’s what I like best about you.”

Dorian let go of the doorknob and stared at it pointedly. His face twisted and released. What was my plan? he thought. What would I have accomplished with such anger?

The door creaked open and Sybil’s heart-shaped face appeared like a moon over the horizon. She beamed. “Oh, love!” she yelped and pushed the door open.

Dorian looked forward and straightened his back. He swept his hair back and gave Sybil a polite smile. “My dearest,” he muttered shyly. 

“I was hoping I had seen you on the balcony,” Sybil squealed with delight. She stepped into the door frame and swept her hand over the room. “Will you join me, good prince?”

Dorian met her eyes and sighed, feeling light and giddy. Despite the embarrassment, his physical feelings for her were strong. Sybil held her hand out for Dorian to take. Before he reached out, he thought of Basil’s unruly dark hair and affectionate smile.

The right thing? Dorian questioned fearfully. He took Sybil’s hand delicately and kissed her fingers. “I would, darling,” Dorian chuckled, “but I must attend to personal matters.”

Sybil recoiled slightly, but soon returned a polite smile. “Oh, that’s fine. Before you go, I was wondering what you thought of my -”

“You were lovely,” Dorian cried, “and I will explain away my hastiness later!” He leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. Once he was out the door, he began sprinting down the street. 

. . . 

Basil’s door flew open and he laughed with surprise and delight before pulling Dorian into his embrace. “I’m more than shocked,” Basil cried, “you came back for me! The night is alive with clubs and youthful spirit and you come to these unlit suburbs.” Basil sighed and leaned against the doorway to his living room with a jaunty grin. “Of course, the night’s youth allowed you to deduce that I had returned home.” Basil raised the wine glass he had been holding in respect. “You know me too well,” he chuckled. 

Dorian giggled, “have you been drinking, Basil?”

Basil bit his lip against a smile and moved the glass behind his back. “Who’s to say,” he deflected, barely containing his laughter.

Dorian clasped Basil’s shoulder with a grin. “It’s no matter anyway. May I?” Dorian inquired, pointing lazily at Basil’s glass.

Basil shrugged and handed his glass to Dorian. “Why not? Here, have a head start.”

Dorian blushed, touched by the gesture. He took Basil’s glass, raised it to him, and took a sip. It felt like stinging, sweet ginger as it ran down his throat. 

Basil poured another glass in the corner of the room. He eyed Dorian kindly. “I’m terribly ashamed of my behavior tonight,” he admitted, “I’m sorry for leaving the theater without so much as a goodbye. Sybil’s performance was important to you.”

“Whatever you are sorry for, you are forgiven, believe me,” Dorian assured, “I was only worried for your well being.”

Basil looked away, smiling to himself. “Thank you,” he whispered, “though, you could have called. You didn’t. You ran here. I’m curious as to what compelled you to do so.”

Dorian laughed. “I’m curious as to why you fled when you claimed you were eager to join us!”

Basil shrugged with an innocent smile, his lips touching his cup. Chuckling, he said, “I’m still not sure. I thought myself a bore on such a joyous night. Shakespeare often depresses me.”

Dorian nodded attentively, sipping at his drink. “I believe that is his point actually,” he wondered. “The dramas are meant to strike a chord with our humanity, to tell a story of unrequited or unfulfilled romance.”

Basil scoffed, staring into his swirling glass. He met Dorian’s eyes tenderly, sighing, “My dear, often it is the romance that depresses me.”

Dorian turned his head, brow furrowed, and Basil laughed, “it is nonsensical to anyone but me. I find myself incompatible with romance. I don’t hold onto relationships. I am quick to turn inward, quick to anger, and unable to respond to a lover’s cry for attention.” Basil huffed with eyes downcast. “Lovely, lovely Dorian, I am impossible to love.”

The room stood quiet. After a moment of discomfort in silence, Dorian sat on Basil’s dark green couch and beckoned to Basil. Basil shuffled over with tepid steps and flopped into the seat next to Dorian. Dorian turned his shoulders towards Basil and took his hands. He turned them over, lightly drawing on Basil’s palms with his thumbs. He whispered to Basil, “I left the theater tonight after the show because I was inspired by the idea of what you’d think of my actions.”

Basil leaned back against the arm of the sofa, surprise alight in his eyes. His lips drew taut as he tried to suppress a smile. “Go on,” he whispered.

Dorian cleared his throat. His palms were sweating and he cupped them lightly around Basil’s, trying not to dampen them. “I was inflamed,” he continued, “both by Henry’s words and the events at the theater. I felt mean like a snake, wanting to lash out.” Dorian chuckled darkly. “I thought myself deserving better. I thought of telling Sybil so, harshly if need be.”

Basil stared at Dorian with concern. He looked down, grasping at empty words. “I’m . . . sorry to hear you were in such a state, possessed by evil like that.” He clasped Dorian’s hands gently. “I am, however, proud and delighted that you thought of me and made a better choice.”

Dorian averted his gaze, beaming. “It seems I think of little but you lately, Basil.”

Basil blushed deep red and his face lit up with a delirious smile. Dorian hopped closer, encouraged by Basil’s response. He took a shaking breath, continuing, “Basil, whatever compels you to believe you are impossible to love, it is a false pretense; you create beauty out of nothing; you adore your friends with great and genuine enthusiasm; you corale me towards the right path,” Dorian declared. Running a hand through his flyaway hairs, he leant towards Basil with a serious look. “Despite my influences, you get me to see what is right and good with only the thought of your care, your kindness, and your love for me.”

Dorian let out a final breath. Basil’s eyes were locked with his, shining with earnest and insane happiness. His head rested relaxed to his left and he rubbed Dorian’s hands between his fingers. Dorian’s heart quickened and he looked away, clearing his throat again. Timid, he looked into Basil’s eyes. He whispered, “Who are you to say you are immune to romance? What about us? Fools in a friendship akin to romance?”

Breathless, Basil reached out, cupping Dorian’s face gingerly in his hands. Dorian lightly traced his fingers over the back of Basil’s hands. Basil shook his head in disbelief. He rubbed his thumb along Dorian’s cheekbone. “I,” he stuttered, “I, you, you’ve surprised, I’m . . .”

Dorian slid his hands down the length of Basil’s arms and dug his fingers into Basil’s shoulders. “Whatever you’re planning to do or say,” he breathed, “do it now. I despise suspense.”

Basil burst into laughter and Dorian joined. When both had caught their breath, Basil pulled Dorian towards him for a kiss. Dorian closed his eyes, sinking with relief as he wrapped his arms around Basil’s neck. Basil ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair and let his lips drag over Dorian’s sluggishly, intoxicated by the intimacy. Dorian pressed his forehead to Basil’s and Basil pulled back, gasping for breath. With a grin, Dorian nuzzled Basil’s nose, causing the two to giggle with childish giddiness. 

“Do you believe you’re wrong now?” Dorian cooed. “About being incompatible with romance?”

“Possibly,” Basil retorted, playing with one of Dorian’s curls. 

“I think you’ll do fine,” Dorian sighed, catching Basil’s eye and grinning. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a stem of lavender. Basil’s brows drew together in a question and Dorian explained, “I pulled it out of the vase at the theater..” Basil rolled his eyes and Dorian flicked his nose. “Enough,” he laughed, “I’m trying to perform an incredibly romantic gesture.”

Basil laughed heartily. “Okay,” he cried, “you’ve gotten me to believe in love again. Happy?”

Dorian beamed, “Always, with you.”

#the picture of dorian gray #oscar wilde #dorian x basil #how is there no ship tag for the original book? #oh well #fluff and angst #fanfiction

[intransigent-boy]

My Top Ten Films of The Decade.

10. Her

Okay, so whether you like it or not, this movie is about the present. This movie tells a very powerful story with an embarrasingly personal narrative. You feel sorry for the main character, it makes you so uncomfortable. And the reason is, because we are all in some sense are like this guy, Theodore. We have better relationships online, and with our advices, than with real people. It’s a really bizarre conception, but we should face it, and ask ourselves: Where is the limit?  The script is just brilliant, but also has very controversial scenes. Joaquin Phoenix is simply the perfect choice for a lonely man, like Theodore. Melancholy everywhere, and great visuals. Arcade Fire made the music for this, and it was pure melancholy. Very interesting film.

9. The Place Beyond The Pines

Derek Cianfrance is an exceptional director. He can wonderfully create an atmosphere with great lighting techiques, unique musics, and of course with talented actors. This movie has a linear, but quite unusual story-structure. The main theme haunts you after you watched this. Legacy! 

8. Nightcrawler

Louis Bloom is something of a loner who is unemployed and ekes out a living stealing and then reselling copper wire, fencing and most anything else he can get his hands on. When late one night he comes across an accident being filmed by independent news photographer Joe Loder, he thinks he may have found something he would be good at. He acquires an inexpensive video camera and a police scanner and is soon spending his nights racing to accidents, robberies and fire scenes. He develops a working relationship with Nina Romina, news director for a local LA TV station. As the quality of his video footage improves so does his remuneration and he hires Rick, young and unemployed, to work with him. The more successful he becomes however, the more apparent it becomes that Louis will do anything - anything - to get visuals from crime scenes. The conception is just brilliant, and screams to your face, what kind of society are we living in. I think Psychopathy is going to be one of the biggest issue in our generation asides with mental illneses. And this movie reflects perfectly. You understand the character, which is geniusly performed by Jake Gyllenhaal. 

7. Inside Llewyn Davis

The Coen brothers' exquisitely sad and funny new comedy is set in a world of music that somehow combines childlike innocence with an aged and exhausted acceptance of the world. It is a beguilingly studied period piece from America's early-60s Greenwich Village folk scene. Every frame looks like a classic album cover, or at the very least a great inner gatefold – these are screen images that look as if they should have lyrics and sleeve notes superimposed. This film was notably passed over for Oscar nominations. Perhaps there's something in its unfashionable melancholy that didn't hook the attention of Academy award voters. But it is as pungent and powerfully distinctive as a cup of hot black coffee. This movie is about sacrificing everything for your art, directionlessness  (is there such a word?) , and finding the right path. Existential theme, with surpisingly good acting from Oscar Isaac, Adam Driver, and Justin Timberlake. This is an Odyssey-story from the 1960′s America. What more you could ask for? 

6. Dunkirk

Reinventing a genre is quite exceptional. And Nolan did it. The best war movies of the last 20 years, including Saving Private Ryan and Hacksaw Ridge, have also placed viewers in the centre of battle. Nolan has not reinvented that immersive approach, but he comes close to perfecting it. The story structure is-again- brilliant. There’s no main character in the movie-just like in a war-but only  scared people. They want to go home. But they can’t. We’re with them with their struggle, and fears. We’re in the air, land, or water, it’s just a haunting terror.  And the soundtrack from Hans Zimmer is really remarkable. You hear it, and you recognize the movie. That’s what I call a score. Reflects perfectly, and holds the attention throughout the whole movie.

5. Hell or High Water

Another genre-twister masterpiece. This Neo-Western is just pure art. Hell or High Water is a film about a criminal  who commits the ultimate offence of putting his gorgeous and much nicer brother in a ski mask for several minutes of this film. Okay actually it’s about a career criminal brother and his he-wasn’t-but-he-is-now criminal brother who team up to commit a series of small-scale bank robberies across Texas, with the aim, finally – after several generations – of lifting the family out of seemingly inescapable grinding poverty. The part of Texas they live in is dying on its feet so career criminal is pretty much the only career left open that doesn’t involve serving in a diner or herding the few remaining cattle. It would’ve been easy for Hell or High Water to to turn out a cliche-ridden double bromance as there are quite a few movie tropes in this love story / revenge thriller, so it’s a tribute to director David Mackenzie that it’s actually a very touching, at times funny, at times quite brutal story. With a bit of grudge-bearing thrown in at the end to stop it being too redemptive. Memorable scenes, great acting, and a deromanticized western-feeling. After this film, you want to live in Texas, where everything’s slower, but sometimes you can chase criminals. It’s nice, isn’t it? 

4. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh’s fiercely written, stabbingly pleasurable tragicomedy stars a magnificent Frances McDormand; watching it is like having your funny bone struck repeatedly, expertly and very much too hard by a karate super-black-belt capable of bringing a rhino to its knees with a single punch behind the ear. He’s a scriptwriter genius, it was shocking, how perfectly the dialouges and the actions were constructed. It is a film about vengeance, violence and the acceptance of death, combining subtlety and unsubtlety, and moreover wrongfooting you as to what and whom it is centrally about. The drama happens in a town with an insidiously pessimistic name – Ebbing, Missouri, a remote and fictional community in the southern United States, where the joy of life does seem to be receding. There is a recurrent keynote of elegiac sadness established by the Irish ballad The Last Rose of Summer and Townes Van Zandt’s country hit Buckskin Stallion Blues, a musical combination which bridges the Ireland which McDonagh has written about before and the America he conjures up here, an America which has something of the Coen Brothers. The resemblance is not simply down to McDormand, though she does give her best performance since her starring role as the pregnant Minnesota police chief in the Coens’ Fargo in 1996. It was brutal, controversial, and violent. 

3. Midnight in Paris

The definitive poem in English on the subject of cultural nostalgia may be a short verse by Robert Browning called “Memorabilia.” The past seems so much more vivid, more substantial, than the present, and then it evaporates with the cold touch of reality. The good old days are so alluring because we were not around, however much we wish we were. “Midnight in Paris,” Woody Allen’s charming film, imagines what would happen if that wish came true. It is marvelously romantic, even though — or precisely because — it acknowledges the disappointment that shadows every genuine expression of romanticism. The film has the inspired silliness of some of Mr. Allen’s classic comic sketches (most obviously, “A Twenties Memory,” in which the narrator’s nose is repeatedly broken by Ernest Hemingway), spiked with the rueful fatalism that has characterized so much of his later work. Nothing here is exactly new, but why would you expect otherwise in a film so pointedly suspicious of novelty? Very little is stale, either, and Mr. Allen has gracefully evaded the trap built by his grouchy admirers and unkind critics — I’m not alone in fitting both descriptions — who complain when he repeats himself and also when he experiments. Not for the first time, but for the first time in a while, he has found a credible blend of whimsy and wisdom.

2. Beautiful Boy 

This supersensitive and tasteful movie is all but insufferable, suppressing a sob at the tragedy of drug addiction afflicting someone so young and “beautiful”. It is based on what is effectively a matching set of memoirs: Beautiful Boy, by author and journalist David Sheff, his harrowing account of trying to help his son Nic battle crystal meth addiction, and Tweak – by Nic Sheff himself, about these same experiences, the author now, thankfully, eight years clean. Steve Carell does an honest, well-meaning job in the role of David and the egregiously beautiful Timothée Chalamet is earnest in the part of Nic, David’s son from his first marriage. This is like a modern-day Basketball Diaries. Honest, and Raw. Most underrated movie of the 2010′s, with an unquestionably important topic. 

1. The Social Network

Before Sorkin wrote the screenplay, Ben Mezrich wrote the book based on Mark Zuckerberg and the founding of Facebook titled: The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, A Tale of Sex, Money, Genius, and Betrayal. It was published in July 2009, and most of the information came from Facebook “co-founder” Eduardo Saverin, who in the film is played by Andrew Garfield. The screenplay that Sorkin wrote was blazing, he wrote the characters like they were in a William Shakespeare play, with a story full of lies, jealousy, and betrayal. I especially love how Sorkin balanced the story between 2003, 2004, and then 2010. It goes back and forth between the past when Facebook was just an idea for Mark, and in the current day when he is being sued by Cameron & Tyler Winklevoss for, in their minds, having stolen their original idea, and by his former best friend Eduardo for having him pushed out of the company. In fact, some of the very best dialogue (and the film is full of great quotes) happens during the deposition scenes. Well-recognizable, rapid-fire dialouges, wonderful directing, with Trent Reznor’s greatest soundtrack. The movie’s probably going to outlive the Facebook itself, and that’s just great. 

#oscars #films #academyawards #2010s #best #movies #cinema #art #top ten #movies of the decade #soundtrack #cinematography

[thesublemon]

pornography vs fetishism

I had the surprising thought the other day that I missed pornography. That is, art with a pornographic ethos. Surprising because I know I complain about too-much-fetishism, so how could I also be complaining about not-enough-porn?

The difference between the two is that fetishism is an attitude about something, whereas pornography is an artistic structure, even genre. One that prioritizes giving the artist or audience what they want. Pornography sets you up for payoff and then pays it, whereas fetishism is the basic desire for payoff. To “fetishize” something is to frame it through the lens of that desire. But it doesn’t necessarily mean gratifying the desire.

This is why you can judge something pornographic aesthetically more easily than something merely fetishistic. Fetish is subject matter whereas pornography is execution. A director might include a shot of feet in a movie because they feel something sexual with regards to feet. But the movie wouldn’t be foot porn unless the point of it had to do with fulfilling the director’s desire to see particular shots of feet. In other words, it wouldn’t be foot porn unless the creative decision-making for the movie centered on how to film feet in the most gratifying possible way. The individual foot shot might be pornographic, but not the whole movie.

More often I’d describe the inclusion of fetish content in unrelated art as indulgent, rather than gratifying or pornographic. A lingering shot of a woman’s clothed breasts might be there because the filmmaker likes to look at breasts. But the shot wouldn’t really be fulfilling the underlying desire the way that a shot of naked breasts might. It might satisfy something in its own right, but it wouldn’t fundamentally “gratify”.

In fact, it’s the indulgent nature of fetishism that explains why I often think of it as an aesthetic flaw. I think of behavior as indulgent when it’s in excess of what’s necessary or appropriate, using “appropriate” in the non-moralistic sense, the sense of “do these things go together?”. Adding octopus to a chocolate chip cookie is not “appropriate.” So having cake while on a diet is indulgent because cake is not “appropriate” for a diet. They don’t go together. But, as ever, that doesn’t mean that the cake necessarily gratifies you. You can indulge in a bad cake. You can indulge in a good cake, but not eat enough to be full. Indulgence is related to gratification in that if one is indulging one is usually seeking gratification, but the concepts don’t assume each other. Similarly, fetishism and pornography are related in that pornography usually has a fetish at the heart of it, and in that if one has a fetish one might be inclined to want pornography of it. But something, to beat the point into the ground, can be fetishistic without being pornographic. Eating a cake when on a diet is indulgent. A triple-layer flourless chocolate cake with ganache or coulis or some other French thing is pornographic.

This distinction is one of the things I was getting at in my post on “aesthetic perversion.” On the terms of that post, pornography is not “perverse” because the entire point of it has to do with fulfilling some desire. Whereas fetishistic moments in art about other things are indulgent because they don’t go with the rest of the work. Fetishism can work great if it’s related to the pornographic goals of the movie. A drenched Colin Firth works in Pride and Prejudice for the same reason that Megan Fox in booty shorts works in Transformers or geek culture references work in Galaxy Quest. Those moments are consistent with how the movie is trying to gratify its audience.

(You can also make a distinction between the indulgent and the “whimsical” as I defined it. Whimsical things are “unnecessary” the way that indulgent things are. But I wouldn’t call whimsy inappropriate. I’d call it non-appropriate. Something extra but not contradictory or alien. Whimsical things exist to play with boundaries of appropriateness. Indulgent things ignore such boundaries. A musician adding ten minutes to their solo because they like the attention is indulgent. Whereas a musician adding ten minutes to a solo to create tension in the audience when it goes on longer than expected…that’s whimsy.)

So when I say I miss porn, I mean that I miss things that care about payoff. The reason I started writing this post in the first place was that I’d just rewatched Terminator 2 and realized how weird it felt to spend two hours with a stupid grin on my face. The fact that every bit of it was was trying to give me the feeling of “this is an awesome movie,” and succeeding. Of course, that sort of thing is always going to be personal. I saw Into The Spiderverse recently and I remember how I felt watching Mad Max: Fury Road and while neither really “did it” for me, I did respect them. They felt like pornography for something that I didn’t personally need pornography of. But that’s fine. I vastly prefer Spiderverse’s commitment to being referential on multiple levels, building it into both story and form, and taking it to a meta-level place, to the winking, find-the-easter-egg, placate-everyone-but-satisfy-no-one fetishism common to the 10′s wave of Marvel, Trek, and Star Wars movies.

Or the reason I got so interested in exploring fanfiction was the fact that it had the ability to be simultaneously artistic and pornographic (as I’ve discussed before). And not a merely sexually explicit, Robert Mappelthorpe sort of “pornographic” which I wouldn’t even call pornographic*. I’d missed reading stories where the author was unafraid of completing the narrative and emotional arches that they began, because they set out to write the story in the first place out of a desire to see an arch completed. Whether that was a sexual arch, a plot arch, a character arch, or something else. I would not say that fanfiction (and similar kind of writing) is usually good, though it certainly can be. But it is often satisfying, and that’s an interesting property in its own right.

*(Mappelthorpe is a tired example when it comes to talking about whether artworks are pornographic, but I saw a retrospective of him recently, so he’s on my mind. I’ve never thought of Mappelthorpe as pornographic because the point of his photography has never seemed to be gratification. It’s more that he’s unafraid of the gratifyingly erotic, and his images gain power from that. He understands that you can’t distill the sexual unless you’re willing to be sexual. I think it would be natural to find many of his images arousing, and I think Mappelthorpe even wants that, wants them to genuinely express an erotic idea. But the ultimate purpose of them is not to get the viewer off. Either literally or figuratively. The purpose is to use the viewer’s reaction to that sexual imagery to express something more abstract. And a similar principle applies to many sexually explicit scenes in fiction and film.)

Ultimately, building up expectations, building up desires for things, and then deliberately satisfying them (or not), is just a matter of good storytelling. It’s not the only way to do storytelling, just like structured melodies aren’t the only way to do songwriting. But it’s still a valuable way, even a difficult way. Because it means taking a stance about what kind of effect you want your artwork to have, and then going after it. It means you can fail. I find it useful to call this sort of desire-to-create-effects a “pornographic ethos” specifically because the word pornography has negative connotations. It’s easy to think of giving people narrative money shots as something cheap or dirty. And it’s not that it can’t be cheap. It’s not that things can’t be bad porn. But getting your audience to want a money shot nonetheless requires real skill, as does leaving them feeling like they were affected, and satisfied by the way they were affected. Not only does it require skill, it’s basically the most natural thing to want be skilled at. Wanting to affect and be affected is one of the main reasons we make and consume art in the first place.

#posts: art #alright getting back to my roots

[theamberfang]

Journal 390: Blinders

Today I managed to watch through a video lecture on Khan Academy (something simple enough I usually haven’t bothered to mention it in the past) and chat a bit with people. Basically, I didn’t accomplish too much.

Instead of going on about how I need to practice being okay with this, I want to take notice of how I was actively trying to get myself to do something else: but I think I got caught up in having to make a decision. I became choice-paralyzed. Instead of doing any of the things I wanted to do, it became easier to just keep watching stuff on Y*uTube or going back to that idle game.

Just to put it down in writing, the things that I wanted to do were: write more for ARCA (specifically the big-picture worldbuilding), play and write about Night in the Woods, or write about the games I would like to design (especially how I would like to go about their development.) Another thing is that all of these would require me to keep my hands on the keyboard, and it’s still cold. So that bit of discouragement from yesterday is still in effect.

It seems that I’m caught in a strange place when it comes to getting myself to do what I want. Keeping a schedule does help keep me on task, but there’s a subtle subconscious pressure that stresses me out, especially when, for whatever reason, I miss out on anything. What I’m doing now leaves me with a little too much freedom though, and I find it difficult to decide on anything.

What I’m noticing about the things that I couldn’t decide between is that they all would (or at least could) take up a significant amount of effort. I had some awareness that committed to any one of them would have sapped any energy that I had for working on the others, making me feel very choosy about it. I think I can go back to something that I was doing before: having one big task that would be the focus of the day—basically whatever I schedule for my weekly schedule. It’s not anything new, but I didn’t really preserve it when I dropped the “tomorrow’s tasks” and the more defined schedule.

My plan, now, is to make the first entry on my “Whimsy List” be the primary focus of that day. I’ll consciously make an effort to put other projects out of mind for that day so that if/when I feel like working on something, I won’t have to agonize over my options. At the same time, I’ll try to remember not to pressure myself to actually do anything...Oh who am I kidding. This will definitely end up pressuring me. I’ll just try to remember that even doing a little bit counts—or to even count tangential activities, like pacing my room and simply thinking about the topic.

Whimsy List

Just rest; it’s Sunday (Not the most eventful start to this “primary goal thing” but it’ll do)

Shower

Khan Academy

Typing practice

Socialize

Journal

#daily journal #personal

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Walking Dead: The Storm (9x16)

That was not at all the episode I thought I was going to get, and I am 100% not complaining about it.

Cons:

I thought the Negan stuff was maybe a little bit on the nose. They're maybe making him too redeemed? I don't know. I have a lot to praise about Jeffrey Dean Morgan's performance, but the whole scenario felt like it was designed just for him to do something obvious that would make people hate him less.

This is a small note, but I was a little unclear on how much time passed after the Whisperer's attack, before the Kingdom was forced to evacuate. I think it was a couple of months? Not a huge deal in the scheme of things, but I would have liked a bit more clarity on how long they'd all been at the Kingdom after the tragedy occurred.

Pros:

Where to start? This episode did such a smart thing. I was expecting a big confrontation between the Whisperers and our heroes, and instead what I got was an episode where they were battling the elements, and dealing with their trauma. The Whisperers have migrated away, and obviously we can't be done with them at this point, but for now, the focus is on other things. That was such an intelligent thing to do. I usually don't trust this show to make smart decisions about the pacing, so I was delighted by what happened here.

Our story is split into two groups. Let's start with Alexandria - basically, it's freezing, so the gang decides they need to huddle together in a few key locations to share heat. Negan has to be released from his cage so he doesn't freeze to death. Judith ends up going out into the blizzard to find Dog, who Daryl asked her to watch. Negan runs after Judith and finds her, saving her and Dog both. He sustains an injury to his leg, and he and Michonne end the episode with a nice chat.

I've talked about how Judith is a bit annoying, but lately she's been acting more and more like a kid, and I'm really enjoying that. Of course she would run off into the snow to look for Dog, without thinking through the ramifications. And despite the somewhat contrived scenario, I also believe that Negan would run after her. His affection for Judith is genuine, despite everything he's done over the years.

I also like that Negan is just so delighted to be around people. He's fascinated by Rosita's baby drama, he cracks a lot of jokes, and he's even able to have a civil and somewhat kind conversation with Michonne there at the end. I understand that Negan might be irredeemable in most people's eyes, and that includes my own, but I do appreciate the attention that's going in to this character. It makes sense that when you've been left locked up alone for so long, you would crave companionship enough to take a serious look at your life choices, and try to make better ones moving forward.

I also just liked the concept of this episode - there aren't any evil people at the gates shouting their threats, there isn't a hoard of Walkers about to destroy their shelter. The bad guy is just a snow storm, and yet the threat of the weather becomes very real very quickly. We see it within the protective shelter of Alexandria, and of course we see it much more with the other half of the episode, which takes place en route to Hilltop, with the evacuated community of the Kingdom.

I'm always impressed when they manage to find a new way to make the Walkers scary. This week, we have Walkers poking up out of the snowbanks and grabbing at people's ankles, and we also have just the unavoidable fact that visibility is poor during the storm, so shapes of Walkers keep looming up out of the snow with little warning. Very scary! I kept waiting for the ice to crack when they were crossing that river... that would have sucked so much.

The two main stories going on with the characters during this treacherous journey are both so incredibly amazing.

First, you've got poor Lydia who blames herself for everything that's happened. We see how far she's fallen when she nearly commits suicide via Walker, and then later when she tries to convince Carol to kill her, in order to protect everyone else. The moment that just cut me to the quick is when Lydia talks about being weak, and that's what finally breaks through to Carol and allows her to have empathy for this girl that she at least partially blames for Henry's death. Carol was abused by her first husband Ed, and Lydia was abused by her mother. The two of them have a connection in this moment as survivors, and Carol's strength in helping Lydia is something that I think we'll see build into the next season. Lydia is a really fascinating character. I'm more interested in her than I have been in a new character on The Walking Dead in a very, very long time.

And speaking of long-standing characters... Carol/Daryl! I'm aliiiive! I can't believe this. I'v got to tell you, it took me a very long time to be okay with the idea of Carol/Ezekiel, but I did get there eventually. But the operative word is "okay." I liked seeing Carol embrace the whimsy of the life Ezekiel offered. He was a good tonic to her darkness and depression in a time when she needed it, and he helped to pull her out of her shell. But I never really felt a big connection to them as a couple, not the way I did with Michonne and Rick, or Glenn and Maggie. It was... fine. It was... okay. And I liked that we were still seeing the abiding love and devotion between Carol and Daryl, even if it never went anywhere more than that.

To be clear, it hasn't gone anywhere more than that, at least not yet. But we've got Ezekiel asking Daryl to back down, we've got Carol and Daryl basically deciding to co-parent Lydia, we've got Daryl asking "what do you see when you look at me?" which was just... oh man I'm living for it. I understand that Carol is deep in her grief over losing Henry, and that this is a big part of why Ezekiel and Carol have broken up. But I think the most telling part of this story thread for me was when Carol said that her time with Ezekiel had been a fairy-tale. That's not the same thing as saying that it was wrong or fake... but it wasn't Carol's ultimate reality, and I cannot wait to find out if that ultimate reality is Daryl. Please, I beg of you. I would have been cool with Daryl/Connie developing romantically, and obviously a not-so-secret part of me will always wonder what might have been with Daryl and Aaron, but if we're talking a realistic relationship that might actually come to fruition after years of loving each other and surviving impossible odds... please. Give me all the Caryl. I'm living for it.

I thought I knew what I was getting with this episode before it started, but instead we get the delightful sight of Michonne, Aaron, Daryl, and Carol playing with Lydia and the youngsters. It's precious, it's light-hearted, it's a reminder of what they're all fighting for. And we're seeing that despite the deep trauma of what the Whisperers have done, the people have taken Siddiq's speech to heart. They're coming together instead of falling apart. I'm actually pretty hopeful that I'll enjoy whatever's coming in Season Ten. Especially with the intriguing promise of that voice on the radio... Maggie? Jadis/Anne? Someone unknown? I'm excited to find out!

9/10

#review #walking dead #walking dead review #the walking dead #the walking dead review #twd

[a-mountain-ash]

A Very Winchester Mystery

A special little ficlet for @ain-t-bovvered‘s 800 follower “Tales of the Winchesters” project! I visited the Winchester Mystery House a couple years back and couldn’t resist. Even tossed in a little personal easter egg from my time there because it was too good and I swear the ghosts played a little prank on me. Also, I’m sure the WIL CFO is perfectly decent person, but I needed someone to commit the crime :P

We know who the Winchesters are. We're not talking the originals, of course, though I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibility for them to be related. We are ghosts, after all, so the realm of possibility is quite large. We mean the new Winchesters. The brothers. The ghost slayers.

You see, the thing about this place that we inhabit is that it's very popular. Everyone comes here. Demons, ghouls, vampires, werewolves. They enjoy a little bit of whimsy as much as the next fellow.  Some people even drag their own personal ghosts with them, pulled along by their attachment to some piece of jewelry or other. Those times are when we get the good gossip.

The Winchesters almost got me last week, but I got away because my daughter here was catching a flight for this vacation she's on. I guess that Dean boy doesn't do planes.

Sam and Dean smoked my aunt's bones a few year's back when she was haunting me. Now I'm a ghost, too. Irony, amiright?

'Pretty sure I'm half way to angry spirit, and I'm afraid the Winchesters are gonna nab me before my boy stands at the alter in a couple months. You guys have any tips on how to stay on the good path?' 'Sure Fred, find some good friends if you can. We have poker nights once a week to vent. Congratulations on the engagement!'

And that, my good listener, is why we are a little bit worried. To give you some background, the Winchester Mystery House is a big thing. People spend real money to come walk through Sarah's wacky rooms and miniature stairwells. Personally, at this point in our ghostly existences, we don't totally understand the appeal, but the point still stands that people are here constantly. They're always with a tour guide, but every now and again, people get away from the group and we have to set them straight. Nicely of course. We weren't lying when we told Fred to find some friends. Being together all these years has really helped us stay on the straight and narrow.

What you have to understand is that we all want to be here, and not for revenge. Absolutely none of us were trapped here and if we really wanted to, we could probably find a way to get a reaper to come take us up, though none of us knows how. Sarah Winchester was the most excellent of ladies. During our lives, she took care of us and our families well and we are simply repaying the favor in death. We keep the property safe, defending it from harm, and keeping the still hidden rooms clean until the property managers finally find them. Occasionally we play a little mischief on tourists who get off the beaten track, like that time some sisters missed a sign and found their ways into a private area and we shut the gate on them. They got out fine, but they knew what happened, and stayed on the path after that.

Anyway, it all started a few weeks ago when apparently somebody in the higher-ups of Winchester Investment LLC decided to get greedy. We don't really understand how that whole situation works because we only know what we hear or see in the newspaper, but we know enough. WIL is in charge of this whole operation and they run it for the descendants of John and Mayme Brown, the couple who bought the house after Sarah died, may she rest in peace. One night, someone tried setting the estate on fire. Nothing of this scale had ever occurred before and we may have lost our cool, just a bit. It happened again a week later. Needless to say, the Winchesters and their angel friend Castiel were all here now, and we were going to have to try really hard to get them to see what was happening here before they found a way to burn us all. 

As it happened though, the Winchesters were surprisingly willing to listen to reason. It might be because we steered them into a room with only two doors, one of which lead to a 15 foot drop off and the other of which we blocked off with 20 or so ghosts strong, but you know, technicalities. They listened.

"Cas, what just happened?" Dean asked.

Oh my goodness, he was gorgeous! Those eyes. Mabel would definitely want to see him. She hadn't seen a cute tourist in weeks.

"Obviously the ghosts are preparing to kill us, Dean. I didn't think that would require an explanation."

The angel was a funny one. We've heard tell of them coming down to earth, but none have come to the house. They must think they're above fun, but we all knew this one is a little different.

"Yeah, yeah Cas. Thanks for the pep talk. I mean, how many of them are there. You can see them, right?"

"Ah, of course. There are currently 19 of them in the room. I believe there are a few more outside the door, but I don't have x-ray vision so you'll have to bear with me."

We really could have appeared to them then, but it was far too good a show to end it straight away. The tall one, Sam, looked like he'd swallowed a whole lemon while he looked between his brother and the angel. Castiel and Dean were so focused on talking about us that it was entirely impossible they'd forgotten about us. Watching them waffle and bicker before us in their FBI suits, it was hard to believe the vast quantity of stories we'd heard all the years before.

"Alright, well what are we going to do about it?" Sam finally asks practically. "We can't go shooting salt rounds inside a century old work of art and we don't have enough salt for that many ghosts at once."

At this point, we were seriously confused about how they'd acquired the reputation they had. That said, the threat of shots being fired at dear Sarah's carefully chosen wallpaper was enough to make a few of us show ourselves. When our best diplomats, Mr. Jones, Margaret, and John, materialized before them, their reactions (or lack thereof) were disappointing though not surprising. After all, with decades of ghost hunts under their belts, nothing should really shock them anymore.

"I would strongly recommend that you do not fire inside our home." Margaret spoke first, in her best friendly intimidation voice. She practiced it daily in front of Sarah's looking glass.

Despite her warning, Dean raised his gun anyway. Effie giggled invisibly at the glorious eye rolling his actions earned him from both Castiel and Sam. The older Winchester swung his gun in her direction. Admittedly, it was fairly impressive how good his aim was from sound alone. Had he fired, he would have hit her squarely in the head.

"God, Dean, what did she just say?" Sam was definitely the reasonable one of the two.

"Yeah, yeah. I heard her. Ghosts say lots of crap, though. Just being on the safe side."

"We will definitely not be allowed back inside if we damage this home, Dean. Even if they do think we're FBI."

"Ugh, fine." Dean lowered his weapon as Castiel placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "What are we supposed to do then?"

"Listen to us, you goon." Mr. Jones spoke then, finally seeing his in. He was a gruff older man, his skin tanned despite his deathly pallor from hours in the sun picking fruit in Mrs. Winchester's orchards. He had died very suddenly one day when a branch had snapped and his ladder had fallen with him at the top.

"We're listening." Sam said quickly before Dean could speak again.

"We're good spirits. None of us are vengeful. We chose to stay here after our deaths, even after Mrs. Winchester passed, in order to protect her property. This place was a good home to many of us and she cared for our families like her own. We just help maintain the property and keep the visitors safe."

"Then why the recent deaths?" Castiel asked.

"Someone is sending people to try and burn the estate to the ground. We believe it must be someone at the organization trying to collect insurance money or something." John spoke now. "One of our younger ghosts, Elmer, lost his temper the first time. The second time, it was Charlie. We aren't vengeful spirits, but protecting this place is our purpose and someone is trying to destroy it."

"You can see we're very much in possession of our faculties, even after almost a century. More for some. But this home must be protected. If it is lost, we truly will go insane." Margaret had dropped her ominous tone in favor of something friendlier.

"Won't you disappear?" Dean asked. "Isn't it the house that you're attached to?"

"No. We are connected to the entire estate, down into the soil that we tended and farmed. We cannot be burned with this house, but if the house burns we will have nothing grounding us to our purpose and then we truly will become vengeful."

"We can't have you killing people, even if they are arsonists." Castiel answered.

"Then help us!" Effie appeared suddenly. She had always gotten impatient with too much talk. "We can't have this house destroyed and you can't have us killing more people. You must be able to do something."

And they could.

With our help concealing the security cameras and silencing the alarms, they snuck back onto the property after hours. We used Castiel as a communication conduit and when we found yet another man entering the property with gasoline and matches we alerted him and they called in an anonymous tip that someone was attempting to burn the estate. Rather than kill the man, we detained him until the authorities arrived and took him away.

A week later, the CFO of WIL was brought in for questioning and one of the Mayme descendants themselves took his position. Every once in a while, when the world isn't ending, the Winchesters take a day or two to come visit us. Castiel always brings the best gossip.

#supernatural #season 10 #dean winchester #castiel #Sam Winchester #winchester mystery house #talesofthewinchesters #tales of the winchesters

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2018, Part III

Parts I and II are here and here.

GOOD MOVIES

70. Mid90s (Jonah Hill)- I usually applaud filmmakers for letting visuals tell the story instead of spelling everything out, but Mid90s needs to spell some more stuff out, especially at the truncated end. His brother brought him an orange juice, so all of the abuse is forgotten? I need a bit more there.

I was always going to be in the tank for this though, having been the same age as the protagonist at the time, owning some of the same shirts as him and hanging some of the same posters on my wall. Despite the "My First Screenplay" beef I had up top, each supporting character gets something to do. Hill shows promise as a director (and the fingerprints of his influences) by being able to shift between poles of emotions in a matter of seconds.

69. McQueen (Ian Bonhote)- Although it waits too long to get into McQueen's depression, this documentary does an adequate job of showing the ups and downs of his life. It was great seeing things I've only read about, like the Voss show.

Here's the thing though: I'm not a genius, but if I were, I would hope that my closest friends and advisers would be able to articulate what made me great. A little less "We were working sixteen-hour days." A little more "He changed art forever."

68. Beautiful Boy (Felix Van Groeningen)- For better and worse, this portrait of a parent's worst nightmare is unrelenting. Surprisingly, the toughest moment is when Nic is fierce with pride, clean for fourteen months. Because when you pause and see that there's an hour left in the movie, you shudder at how low he might end up going.

Van Groeningen's sort of french braid of past and present hasn't changed for his English-language debut, but things worked best for me when he locked in on Timothee Chalamet's mannered but touching performance. I wish the movie had a proper ending.

67. The Kindergarten Teacher (Sara Colangelo)- This takes a little while to get sick and twisted, but I liked it once it did. Part of why it works is Gyllenhaal's commitment to the role. As dark as the character gets--and the film does seem hell-bent on establishing her as a failure when I'm not sure that's true--Gyllenhaal never judges her. It's probably her best performance since SherryBaby.

As for Gael Garcia Bernal, who plays a poetry professor who kisses people and then apologizes and says that he misread the moment and acts all bashful, are we sure about him? Are we sure he's good at acting?

66. The Spy Who Dumped Me (Susanna Fogel)- The spywork of the last half-hour is way too convoluted, but the comedy is fast and loose in service of a sweet female friendship. We're at the stage with the genius of Kate McKinnon in which I just assume that she came up with anything funny on the spot. For example, there's an off-hand joke that her character went to camp with Edward Snowden and was surprised that the news didn't mention how "into ska" he was. It's so bizarre that it had to be improv. Later, when Edward Snowden shows up as a character, I had to admit that the movie was tightly written. But I assumed it was McKinnon first. 65. Ready Player One (Steven Spielberg)- Halfway through Ready Player One, there's a sequence that takes place inside The Overlook Hotel of The Shining. The characters are walking through a photorealistic recreation of that setting, down to the smallest details, but it has been repurposed with different angles for this film. Not only have I literally never seen something like this in a movie, but I never imagined the possibility of such a thing existing. And somehow...it's corny and derivative.

So goes Ready Player One. It takes the simple pleasures of a Chosen One narrative with a killer villain, loads every corner of the frame with Ryu or Beetlejuice or a Goldie Wilson campaign poster, and punishes you with maximalism. Each piece reliably contributes to the whole, sometimes in thrilling and amusing fashion, but no matter when you check your watch, forty-five minutes are left.

When imdb came out, Steven Spielberg was one of the first people I looked up. What shocked me was how many projects I attributed to his direction when he had only produced them. In my kid brain, Spielberg had directed Gremlins or Goonies or An American Tail. They had his imprimatur of whimsy and wonder and childhood identification even if they were, you know, a bit more conventional and less purposeful than the movies he directed. Well, not since Tintin has there been a Steven Spielberg-directed film that feels more Spielberg-produced.

My favorite reference was the Battletoads. Or more accurately, imagining the seventy-two-year-old filmmaker going, "Oh, you know I gotta get the 'Toads up in this bih!"

64. Ben Is Back (Peter Hedges)- Despite a little bit of note-card screenwriting--"Get a line about how insurance doesn't care about drug addiction in there!"--The first two-thirds take their time revealing information to the viewer, dropping bread crumbs of the family history quite gracefully. Roberts and Hedges play off each other well, and their charisma powers the first half. She, of course, has an ample bag of Movie Star tricks, but, surprisingly, he already does too. You can see, in the confrontation at the mall, for example, how the mother's dissembling and conniving would pass down to him.

So it's a real bummer when the final third decides to separate the leads and rushes to a baffling conclusion. It falls apart like few movies in recent memory.

63. Avengers: Infinity War (Anthony Russo, Joe Russo)- Whatever. I admire the skill that it must have taken to balance the revolving wheel of characters--even if it does feel like check-ins half the time. The movie is exhausting in a bad way until it's exhausting in a good way. More importantly, here are my power rankings. (Their power in my own heart. Thanos is obviously the most powerful.)

1. Rocket 2. Hawkeye (Renner Season even when it isn't.) 3. The Collector 4. Black Panther 5. Thanos 6. Iron Man 7. Ned 8. Nick Fury 9. Star Lord 10. Thor (His scene with Rocket is the best one in the film.) 11. Gamora 12. Hulk (Your boy is so earnest in this. "They KNEW!") 13. Spider-Man 14. Wong 15. Okoye 16. Doctor Strange (Way cooler in this than his own movie.) 17. Captain America (His hair was beautiful.) 18. Drax 19. Pepper Potts 20. Falcon 21. Groot 22. Black Widow 23. Winter Soldier 24. Loki (Is he alive? Was he alive before this? Can he impersonate people or whatever even if he's dead? What's his deal?) 25. Scarlet Witch (Her first line is, getting out of bed, "Vis, is it the stone again?") 26. Gamora's Sister (No, you look it up.) 27. War Machine (Do you think Cheadle forgets that he's in these? Like, he misses a day of shooting just because he forgot?) 28. Vision 29. Whatever Peter Dinklage Was

62. The Old Man & the Gun (David Lowery)- Sissy Spacek's character explains, on a tour of her house, that she pulled up some wallpaper and found a signature from 1881 underneath, which is so unique that--ugly as it is--she couldn't bear to cover it. The movie is sort of about that. Does a way of life from a long time ago matter now?

Does it matter how you present yourself? How much does intention cancel out action?

The questions play themselves out in a way that is formally interesting--Lowery swish-pans and advances the scenes in a way that he hasn't since Ain't Them Bodies Saints--but informally pretty dull. Redford is engaging as possible, but I feel like I maxed out on my concern for a person who refuses to change.

I've had the Sean Penn "on one" scale for a long time, but I'm introducing the "off one" scale for Casey Affleck, who is so purposefully muted that he seems like he's going to pass out in some scenes. Keep doing you, Case. As far as acting goes.

61. Disobedience (Sebastian Lelio)- I admired how little the film spelled out about the setting and the characters' pasts. The beginning is cautious without being slow, and the women seem drawn to each other with a sort of magnetism that is difficult to pull off. While the triangle of people at the center is realistic and fair, the picture is ultimately a bit staid. I don't want melodrama out of the story either, but I do think it would work better if the characters were more passionate about anything, even the religion that makes them lack passion. 60. Crazy Rich Asians (Jon M. Chu)- This movie is sweet, and it nails the rom-com fulcrum scenes that it has to. Hear me out though: Both of the leads are winning, and Henry Golding's charm keeps us from acknowledging that his character is a psycho. Here is a list of things that, over the course of a year, he does not bother to tell his girlfriend:

a. That his family is the wealthiest in Singapore. Or wealthy at all. But more notably, he tells Rachel no details at all about his family, such as his brothers' and sisters' names. b. That he skipped an important trip home a few months ago, which caused a rift in his family. c. How to pack or dress for their trip to visit his family. d. That his mother did not want them sleeping together at her house, not that he "wants her all to himself." e. That his family wants him to take over their business, which would necessitate a permanent move to Singapore. f. That he went out with one of the women attending the bachelorette party, and that this woman has very good reason to sabotage Rachel and Nick's current relationship. g. That the wedding they're attending is also a super-rich affair that will be covered by international media. h. That the wedding party they're attending the night before is a formal affair with hundreds of guests, not the "family party" that he presents it as. By the way, this is one of the two times that he not only doesn't accompany her to an event, expecting her to meet him there and find him, but he doesn't even send a car. i. That he's thinking about proposing to her. "We haven't even talked about that stuff," Rachel tells her mother.

Communication is key, Nick.

59. Lean on Pete (Andrew Haigh)- I liked the first half and its patient doling out of information. Haigh sews quite a few credible threads to show why the gruff Dell would take a liking to Charley. When the film diverges into a drifter story, I got frustrated with it. To me, drifter characters aren't interesting because they take unpredictable actions, what enliven films, and make them predictable. A dine-and-dash is a dangerous, exciting thing to happen in a movie, but when this scared kid has already done so much similar running, it dulls that edge. This is Haigh's least successful film, but it's still empathetic and sensitive.

58. Hereditary (Ari Aster)- The first third of Hereditary is when it is at its most intimate and compact as a story of grief. And with the bridge of a genuinely shocking event, it becomes less Don’t Look Back and more of a hellish explainer.

Ari Aster is a master craftsman already, investing every element with intention, down to “Why are clocks so present in the frame?” That craft extends to Toni Collette, who is even better than she normally is. But in refusing to be mysterious and small, the film didn't connect with me on a level beyond admiration..

57. Gringo (Nash Edgerton)- The expository information about the company comes too late, the ending is too tidy, and I'm not sure what my girl Mandy Seyfried is doing in this. But it's funny overall, in large part because Theron and Edgerton bounce off each other beautifully, projecting a very specific brand of nouveau riche awful. She says, "Fat people are...hilarious," and he wears too many accessories in his pick-up basketball game, for which there's a running clock.

Many of these crime comedies fail because all of the characters are painted with the same cynical brush, but Oyelowo is so likable here as a frazzled guy in over his head, playing against the type of simmering dignity he inhabited as someone like Martin Luther King. I'm glad that he's getting at-bats with something this different.

56. Bad Times at the El Royale (Drew Goddard)- If you like table-setting (and I do), then this is going to be a fun time. Each room at the motel gets a two-sided mirror, each character is two-faced, many events are presented from two perspectives, and there's even a double in the title. It's hard not to share in Goddard's delight as he patiently lays out all of the Tarantinian pieces.

Once he has to start declaring things though, somewhere halfway in the meandering two and a half hours, the film doesn't end up having much to say. I'm not sure I wanted another Cabin in the Woods ending, but I did want it to add up to more than the modest pleasures that it does. Kudos to Chris Hemsworth and his dialect coach for finally piecing together a serviceable American accent.

55. Thunder Road (Jim Cummings)- As far as calling card movies go, this one is a pretty smart character study. It centers on how the things we find important, the impact of words in this case, can often be the things we struggle with the most, through dyslexia and spoonerisms and messed-up jokes in this case. That being said, no offense, the film would be 25% better with a more capable lead actor. 54. Annihilation (Alex Garland)- Much like Sunshine, another Alex Garland script, this story handles the mystery elegantly, with jolts of real horror, until we get where we're going, which doesn't live up to the promise. I do appreciate that it respects the viewer's intelligence--withholding answers to questions, sometimes never answering questions. I'm grateful that it exists. 53. BlacKkKlansman (Spike Lee)- Like Chi-Raq and Red Hook Summer, BlacKKKlansman would make for a hell of a YouTube compilation if you cut together its best moments. It's sharp and vital when it's at its best, which is pretty much any time it's commenting on the present, through "Now more than ever" Nixon campaign posters, mentions of how David Duke's policies might show up in Republican platforms, or the searing epilogue that brings back one of Lee's oldest tricks.

Like a lot of his recent work though, it's a mess tonally, and basic stuff like the timing of the cuts seems amateurish. I also think Lee's relationship with Terence Blanchard is hurting him at this point; the music doesn't match what's going on at all. I wish it hung together better than it does.

52. Widows (Steve McQueen)- This is the messiest film that Steve McQueen has made, which is its biggest strength and its biggest weakness. That loose quality allows for some expressive moves, such as when the alderman candidate takes a real-time two-minute ride from the poor area where he's campaigning to the tony area where he lives, in the same district. This is a film with admirable ambition to go with its cheap thrills.

But that same messiness produces as many bad performances (Farrell, Neeson, and, yes, Duvall) as it does good ones (Debicki, Henry, Kaluuya), and it elides so many moments near the end that I have lingering questions about whether a major plot point was even resolved. This is definitely the type of movie that has a three-hour cut that is better, and I still hope that director's cut doesn't waste five scenes on Debicki's prostitute relationship with Lukas Haas. (Where is his sliver of a face on the poster?)

51. The Death of Stalin (Armando Iannucci)- I feel as if I have to adjust to the astringency of any Iannucci property, and when I do, I laugh a lot. This movie is hilarious, and I'll save you from a list of the jokes that work the best.

Iannucci and his collaborators take one of the most violent, tyrannical periods of history and expose its perpetrators as sniveling, feckless children who might accidentally spit in their own faces as they're trying to spit on someone else's. Destabilizing those in power--in this case de-memorializing them--and portraying them as lost, scared humans is the goal of satire. So even though he does it so well, part of me wonders, "Is that it?" Bureaucracy is dumb? Isn't this an easy target? For what it's worth, I felt the same way about In the Loop, despite everyone else's praise. I'm waiting for Iannucci to find a weapon sharper than the middle finger.

50. Tully (Jason Reitman)- In a way, it's refreshing for a screenwriter to be bad at writing men. The outdated, clueless, manchild dad is the biggest weakness of the script, especially since everything else is pitched with such realism. There's also one scene that I hate but probably shouldn't spoil.

Put aside that character though, and this is a movie with wit, verisimilitude, and even a bit of visual agility. The protagonist--Marlo, a Diablo Cody name if there ever was one--has a special needs son, and I appreciated the honest way that Marlo's frustration with him sometimes outweighed her understanding.

49. Fahrenheit 11/9 (Michael Moore)- Fahrenheit 11/9 is diffuse, but it's effective enough to be in the top half of Moore's work. He stays out of it mostly (besides that familiar narration, as gentle as it is ashamed), but his heart is clearly in the searing Flint section. In fact, I wish he had made a documentary that focused only on that American travesty, not all of them.

He has the same challenge that many of us do--pointing out the crimes and perversions of Trump while keeping the high ground--and he doesn't always avoid the low-hanging fruit. Dubbing Trump's voice over Hitler's is the type of shit that people hate him for. At most turns, however, Moore's choices make sense. A long diversion into the Parkland kids, even though I find them kind of tiring personally, serves as an inspirational peak to the valley of any people of a generation or two earlier than them.

48. Isle of Dogs (Wes Anderson)- Many Wes Anderson movies are flippant about death and disease. When the effect works, it's refreshing and disorienting. When it doesn't, like in this movie, it feels cold, as if he's moving dolls around in a playhouse.

But in every other way, the sweet and wry Isle of Dogs benefits as a manicured chamber piece. The details are obvious (the tactile fur on all of the dog puppets), less obvious (a translation provides the legend "very sad funeral" to accompany a news story), and even less obvious (more than one joke about how many syllables should be in a haiku). If the narrative--jaded stray finds redemption through guileless child--doesn't offer much in the way of re-invention for the director, then I'm glad the large canvas does.

47. You Were Never Really Here (Lynne Ramsey)- I wanted an artsy crime film, and I got an artsy crime film. I have no idea if I liked it. It's bleak and groady, more of a violence movie than an action movie, concerned with the cycle of abuse and the oily spread of vengeance. It begins twenty minutes after most films of its type might choose to, and it begins in earnest at the hour mark. The atonal Jonny Greenwood score is a perfect approximation of whatever kind of dark clouds are floating in the protagonist's head.

Even when it doesn't work, the film is a reminder that Lynne Ramsey is a real artist. Although this doesn't come close to the catharsis and real-world relevance of We Need to Talk About Kevin, it reveals a focused point of view. Whether it's depicting a sequence through only surveillance footage or cutting to a half-second of flashback, she includes exactly what she wants to.

46. The Commuter (Jaume Collet-Sera)- I gave Non-Stop two-and-a-half stars, and this is a much more elegant version of Non-Stop. Even though it succumbs to gross CGI and outsized conspiracy, the class-conscious table setting is non-pareil, and it lets Neeson act his age.

45. Vice (Adam McKay)- Vice is a difficult film to evaluate because its greatest strength, the resolute, partisan, experimental point of view, is also its greatest weakness, the hand-holding, pedantic, antic point of view. There are moments in this film--the menu scene, the fake-ending--that are more inventive than anything else this year. And credit to McKay for a sui generis structure that covers thirty years in the first hour and two years in the second hour; if nothing else, he has the talent to make unitary executive theory fun.

It's a big, angry, auteurist, '70s swing, so it also takes a lot of chances that don't work and, quite obviously, it wields poetic license in the way that Ron Burgundy swished around a glass of scotch. Sometimes it doesn't know when to trust the viewer, like when it freeze frames and flashes "George H.W. Bush, President, 1989-1993" over a Bush-looking guy talking about "Barbara and I" as his son misbehaves in the background. Through no fault of McKay's, the story feels anti-climactic as well. Although I felt more distance than I expected from events that I consider recent history, the dominoes are still falling in the world that Cheney shaped.

One thing that is less debatable is Christian Bale's transformation into Cheney. That word "transformation" is used any time a famous person wears a wig. This performance, which spans decades and is not directly related to any of Bale's other work, is different. The portrait of Cheney is one of monolithic evil, which Bale suggests, but it's also grounded in reticent, clenched jaw micro-movements. Cheney, who is four inches shorter than Bale, seems like the smallest and biggest man in any room. At this point, if you told me Bale was playing Grendel, I wouldn't bat an eye. In fact, his Grendel might look a lot like Dick Cheney.

[hermanwatts]

The Black Moon Chronicles: Beginnings

God might not play dice with the universe, but the devils do.

In The Black Moon Chronicles: The Sign of Darkness, written by François Marcela-Froideval and drawn by Olivier Ledroit, Lucifer grows tired of his generals throwing matches in their little games. So he engineers a game in the mortal world where none of the players can deliberately lose. A Chosen One prophecy and the fall of an empire would do nicely. But what man will be chosen?

He might be a nameless lancer out in the woods, little more than a highwayman in armor. Call him Wismerhill after his home town, or Wis for short. It’s as good a name as any. But this half elf has an unknown past and hints of more sinister gifts, as the rogue Heads-or-Tails discovers in their first meeting. Wis may be sheltered and naive, but he falls into bad company with the mercurial rogue, whose personality shifts based on which of two magical swords, good or evil, he currently wields. The two fast friends embark on a series of petty crimes and capers. But the eye of the half-ogre Gorghor Bey soon settles upon Heads-or-Tails’ swords.

The swords, however, are attached to Heads-or-Tails, and it is only by the whim of Gorghor Bey that the two highwaymen keep their heads. Now fighters for the half ogre warlord, Wismerhill and Heads-or-Tails join the Gorghor Bey’s invasion of the Empire. Caught up in a whirlwind of fighting, training, and loving, Wis quickly distinguishes himself as a valued aide, able to read the winds and save the horde from multiple ambushes as they raze the hinterlands of the Empire. But such a display of military power cannot go unchecked, so the Empire sends the Army of Light after Gorghor Bey. And other, more sinister forces have taken notice of the chaos for their own ends.

The Sign of Darkness serves as the ever-popular origin story for the twenty volume Black Moon Chronicles. This French dark fantasy series has given birth to two spin-off series and even a video game. The emphasis here is on dark fantasy, if the slight elven warrior with an evil magical sword was not a clue. Wis is fighting on the side of orcs, ogres, and barbarians against the setting’s version of Gondor, and there is no mistaking these invaders for the side of Good. At best, Wis and his companions act as anti-heroes who are a little too comfortable with the terrible acts they commit. But those acts are in the future. The Sign of Darkness is comics’ answer to The 36th Chamber of Shaolin, an extending training montage pushing Wis from a nameless tough to a champion on the run. He has yet to be swept up into the various gambits playing out for control over the Empire.

The setting is familiar, with a gleaming white Empire as the bastion of church and civilization standing against a tide of invading barbarism. This time, we see it from the invaders’ point of view, without the expected propaganda of imperial hypocrisies that a contemporary version of the story would demand. Some people just want to watch the world burn. Those willing to light the match fight for Gorghor Bey. The resulting chaotic, orkish invasion is so familiar, as are Wis’s winds of magic, that it would not be a surprise to discover that Games Workshop plundered the Black Moon Chronicles as they did The Lord of the Rings for their Warhammer Fantasy setting. As of yet, the Black Moon Chronicles does not revel in the destruction and cruelty to the same degree that a grim dark world where there is only war has, or with the exquisite artistry of a Melniboné. Instead, a strong dose of self-deprecating humor keeps the excesses away.

The Black Moon Chronicles uses an interesting design choice. Those characters and objects which are evil, or, in the case of Wis’s powers, chaotic, have rougher, dingier, uglier art. Clean lines and beauty are reserved for the good, whether that be the Army of Light or Feidreiva, Wis’s unlikely lover who spends less time clothed than French fanservice favorite Laureline. And as Gorghor Bey changes from Wis’s captor to mentor, his portrait smooths. But the real star of the artistic show are the big battle set pieces. Ledroit conveys in his art both the immense scale of massive armies as well as the immense chaos of battle. The only portrayal that comes close is The Return of the King‘s field battles.

I am intrigued by the potential in The Black Moon Chronicles: The Sign of Darkness. It is just the opening act, and the villains and main conflict of the story have yet to be revealed. Fortunately, the full 20 volume series is offered on Kindle Unlimited, making it easy and affordable to follow along Wismerhill’s journey under the Black Moon.

Of all the terrifying warlords to wreak destruction across the empire, few can match the savagery of Ghorghor Bey. His name alone can cause even the bravest of soldiers to tremble in their boots, and noble lords and ladies throughout the land pray that he never comes knocking at their castle doors in search of gold, booze, and maidens. But few know the tragic story behind this fearsome warrior’s rise to power. From his harrowing childhood to his first love(s), his devastating heartbreaks and crushing victories, read on and discover how a naïve young half-ogre would go on to become Ghorghor the Terrible.

I’ve been rather taken with the Black Moon Chronicles, the French dark fantasy comic from François Marcela-Froideval, Olivier Ledroit, and Cyril Pontet that uses humor to soften the horrors of a decadent Melniboné-style empire falling to the apocalypse. At turns aiding and resisting the fall into soul-devouring horror is the half-elf Wismerhill, the unwitting pawn of the evil Black Moon. But how did fate draw Wismerhill’s companions to him? And who better to start with than the jovial giant, the fearsome half-ogre warlord now know as Ghorghor Bey?

The first of The Black Moon Arcana serves as a direct prequel to The Black Moon Chronicles: The Sign of Darkness, detailing the rise of Ghorghor Bey from outcast to the scourge of the Empire as he is in the days before he meets Wismerhill. While the prequel sheds little new light into the twists and turns of the Black Moon’s world-dooming invasion or Ghorghor’s revolving-door relationship with death, it is a welcome insight into a beloved character who tends to get only a panel to two to mug in each new volume.

However, this prequel checks the boxes on the standard villain’s back story. Stop me if you’ve heard this before. A half-ogre child born from rape and unwanted pregnancy cruelly shunned by his adopted father and the rest of the village. When his mother dies, the half-ogre is expelled from the village and forced to live on his own–

Yes, I thought so too.

The boy, Ogur, falls in with the circus, where he finds acceptance and love among the freaks and performers. He learns the strongman routine and finds the loves of his life in a pair of Siamese twins. Here, he has the family he was denied.

Until a lord double-crosses the circus. The lord enslaves most of the circus, and drives Ogur and the rest of the freaks into the swamp. While there, a Divorak swamp kraken attacks, devouring Ogur’s loves. Ogur slays the monster, and swears a blood oath to avenge his friends and lovers. And when he slays the leader of a band of highwaymen, Ogur has the opportunity he has sought, as the highwaymen give him their allegiance. Now calling himself Ghorghor Bey, the half-ogre raises his standards, and rogues, orcs, and ogres rally to him. The new warlord scourges the local nobles, returning the brutality that the lords had visited upon him. Yet he never loses the whimsy that surrounds him, a brutal whimsy that never turns to cruelty. You may die in Ghorghor’s jests, but you will not die slow.

Finally, the warlord returns to the lands of the lord who wronged him. Ghorghor Bey single-handedly breaches the castle and, one by one, pitches the defenders over the walls. No quarter will be given until he frees his friends. After the lord is slain and the chains on the circus performers broken, Ghorghor Bey turns his fury against the nobility, scourging the Empire in the first of many apocalyptic invasions that will tear it apart. And, along the way, he runs into two bandits, the mad elf Heads-or-Tails and magic-touched Wismerhill…

As I said, standard villainy fare. But the Black Moon Chronicles tries to make a distinction between being bad and being evil, between falling and fallen. Ghorghor Bey is undoubtedly bad, driven to his own cruelty by the cruelty of others, but he never crosses into the demonically evil. That terror is saved for Wismerhill. And for unrepentant, soul-devouring evil? Wait until we meet Haazel Thorn.

There is a rough honor to the brutal and cunning Ghorghor Bey, who later becomes Wismerhill’s trusted lieutenant. There’s also the bit of the clown, of intelligence, whimsy, and the subversion of expectations, including a surprising gentleness. The performer never left the warlord, as he can be found mugging in the background of many a panel. But the one thing he is not is the dullard brute that many ogres are portrayed as in fantasy. That Ghorghor Bey is given a chance to shine once more outside Wismerhill’s shadow is welcome. I just wish there was more meat to these formulaic old bones.

So, at the start, The Black Moon Arcana is for the fans already invested in the signs and portents of the Black Moon. But maybe when we get to the true holy knight Parsifal, the story will pick up. In the meantime, please check out the more palatable Elric-type story that is the Black Moon Chronicles.

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